


Ravenstar's Cry

by selneversleeps



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Gen, On Hiatus, gritty reboot, lmao jk i wish, no beta we die like Redtail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26483839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selneversleeps/pseuds/selneversleeps
Summary: A sinister force of evil is creeping into the forest, threatening the long-established peace of the four Clans. StarClan's last hope is one ThunderClan apprentice by the name of Ravenpaw. He alone has the power to stop his treacherous mentor and enemy, Tigerclaw, from ruining ThunderClan forever. An AU where Ravenpaw is the protagonist of the first series.
Kudos: 12





	1. Cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by TheCynicalHound. Thank you!


	2. Prologue

Ravenpaw hated fighting.

He hated the whole idea of it all. Whenever Tigerclaw would drag him out for battle training, Ravenpaw would think of any excuse he could to skip. He was not a very good fighter, to say the least, and battle training constantly landed him with bruises and aches. The other apprentice reveled in their sore muscles and torn claws, but Ravenpaw couldn’t feel the same way. He was small, scrawny, and slated for certain death before even reaching his warrior ceremony.

There had been rumors that RiverClan had been hunting on their territory. When Redtail had organized the nightly patrol for the RiverClan border, Ravenpaw had stood behind the shadow of the Highrock, praying to StarClan that his name wouldn’t be called.

“...Mousefur, Tigerclaw, and Ravenpaw.”

Ravenpaw swallowed the bile in his throat at the memory, and tried not to faint. Graypaw, the youngest apprentice, had jumped at the opportunity to practice his battle moves with him. Sandpaw had just glared at him with cold disdain. “It should be _me_ ,” he’d heard her mutter to herself. Dustpaw had given him the heartiest bump on his flank, chatting excitedly about how he absolutely _must_ tell him everything if a fight breaks out.

 _If_ , Ravenpaw told himself, feeling his paws growing weak with every step. The dry bracken crunched beneath him with every step, mocking his erratic heartbeat. The night wind swept through his thin, messy fur. He shivered.

Sunningrocks at night looked like a huge, dark mass against the full moon. Its shadows seemed to engulf Ravenpaw as the patrol approached. Ravenpaw cowered behind Redtail, letting the tortoiseshell tom’s tall body block his view of the river a few foxlengths away. Maybe if he just didn’t watch, it wouldn’t be so bad.

He could smell RiverClan scent markers. He saw five dark shapes in the distance.

“Oakheart,” Redtail said coolly. “Keep your hunting parties out of our territory. The next RiverClan cat we find in ThunderClan territory will be killed.”

The brown tom he was addressing glared at him, puffing up his fur. “My Clan must be fed as well,” he replied. ‘We will not back down!”

It happened before he could even think. The first battle cry from somewhere along the bank sliced through the still night. Ravenpaw almost jumped out of his skin, every hair on end as the RiverClan cats came charging at them, their pelts shiny and wet from the river water.

“ThunderClan, attack!” Redtail yowled as he threw himself into the fray. Ravenpaw saw his mentor, the huge tabby Tigerclaw, let out an ear-piercing caterwaul as he landed himself on a RiverClan warrior, his massive claws sinking into his skin. The two rolled away in a screeching bundle of fur and teeth.

Ravenpaw’s vision started to blur. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he looked around wildly, trying to figure out something to do, what he was _supposed_ to do. Nobody had ever told him that battles were loud and too fast to let you think…

Something knocked him off his side, and he felt all the air painfully leave his chest. He smelled the fishy scent of a RiverClan warrior, soon followed by a painful blow to the back of his shoulders. He gasped in pain and scrambled to get away. He slipped between the warrior’s paws and made a mad dash into the bushes. The branches tugged at his pelt, ripping away chunks of fur as he struggled into the undergrowth.

Two cats crashed by him, locked in fierce combat, their yowls echoing through the woods. Ravenpaw pushed himself up against a tree stump, trying to melt into the shadows, hoping that no one would discover him there. He heard a rumble in the distance, like the sound of a thousand boulders crashing onto each other. The shrieks of terrified cats split the air, and Ravenpaw ducked as a small cloud of dust flew towards him in the wind. In the darkness, he saw Redtail’s fur fluffed up in triumph. “Oakheart is dead!”

The fighting resumed with more intensity than before. _Are we winning_? Ravenpaw wondered hopefully. He heard the sound of splashing water and peered out from behind his post to see another patrol of RiverClan warriors had arrived, engulfing the ThunderClan cats from all sides. Ravenpaw heard Tigerclaw screech at Mousefur to run. After what seemed like an eternity, or maybe it’d only been a few moments, he heard Redtail’s hoarse yowl, “Retreat, ThunderClan!”, followed by the victorious screeches of RiverClan as the ThunderClan cats fled through the undergrowth.

Ravenpaw squeezes his eyes shut as paws thundered by. He only opened them when he could hear the gentle chirping of crickets and the breeze through the tall grasses surrounding him. He let out a shaky breath. There was something sticky on his shoulder. Blood. Ravenpaw could smell it now, the pungent, saltiness of his own blood trickling from the wound the RiverClan warrior had inflicted on him. His head reeled, and suddenly the ground started spinning in front of him.

 _Get it together_ , Ravenpaw told himself, staggering to balance his clumsy paws. He took a deep breath, and started back to camp.

“Why did you call for the retreat?” Ravenpaw could hear Tigerclaw’s throaty growl as he and Redtail approached from behind him. Ravenpaw picked up the pace, not wanting to have Tigerclaw see him and undoubtedly start interrogating him on what happened during the battle. Ravenpaw wouldn’t know what to say. The truth would be incredibly pathetic, that he got battered around for the entirety of it, but lying didn’t seem to be a good idea either… Tigerclaw could always see through his lies.

“Some battles must be lost, Tigerclaw,” he heard Redtail respond. “We were outnumbered, and we were overwhelmed. We would’ve lost warriors if we’d continued.”

Tigerclaw snarled. “A fitting sacrifice, wouldn’t you think?”

“Tigerclaw,” Redtail sounded quietly exasperated. “I will not lose warriors over a pile of rocks. Bluestar would’ve done the same.”

“Both of you are the reason we even let RiverClan dispute us on Sunningrocks in the first place!” Tigerclaw responded, his voice echoing off the trees surrounding them. The two cats stopped walking. Ravenpaw slowed his pace and glanced behind his shoulder. He should’ve kept walking.

“Respectfully, Tigerclaw,” Redtail meowed coldly, “it sounds like you have more than a few problems with my decisions as deputy lately.”

Ravenpaw saw their fur bristling in the glare of the moonlight. “You’re right,” Tigerclaw hissed. “And I should’ve made my opinion known _sooner_.” Ravenpaw stared in horror as Tigerclaw threw himself onto Redtail, claws unsheathed. The deputy let out a shriek of surprise, and struggled against the giant tabby tom, his paws churning helplessly to throw off his weight. A glint in the moonlight, and Tigerclaw had buried his impossibly sharp claws into Redtail’s throat. There was a terrible, terrible screech, and then silence. His body stilled, and then crumpled to the forest floor.

Tigerclaw’s amber eyes gleamed as he sat up, his chest heaving.

Ravenpaw couldn’t breathe. He let out a choking noise, a little too loudly, causing Tigerclaw’s head to whip in his direction.

Suddenly, Ravenpaw was feeling very lightheaded. He must’ve lost a lot of blood. He must’ve… He must... Must not be seeing things right. The battle was messing with his head. He didn’t think twice. He ran as fast as his paws could take him. The forest whistled by as he bounded towards ThunderClan camp.

The sun was rising now. A soft pastel dawn started to bleed into the indigo sky. Ravenpaw could see the treetops and the budding new leaves on the branches. He leaped across the ravine. Skidded through the sandy hollow. He could see the well-worn path leading into the camp. It felt like ice under his worn-out paws.

He burst through the bramble barrier that surrounded the multitude of dens and the cats that lived within them. Bluestar and Lionheart were standing in the middle of the clearing, speaking to each other in hushed voices. When they saw him stagger into the camp, Bluestar snapped her attention towards him.

“Ravenpaw?” her voice was calm, but her blue eyes were clouded with anxiety. “What has happened? Speak, Ravenpaw!”

“Redtail is dead!” Ravenpaw squeaked as he skidded to a halt in front of his leader, and scrambled onto Highrock. “We m-met five RiverClan warriors beside the stream, not far from the Sunningrocks,” he went on shakily. “Oakheart was among them. Redtail warned Oakheart to keep his hunting parties out of ThunderClan territory. He said the next RiverClan warrior to be caught in ThunderClan territory would be killed, but Oak…Oakheart would not back down. He said his Cl-Clan had to be fed, whatever we threatened.” Ravenpaw paused to wheeze for breath. “That’s when the RiverClan cats attacked. It was hard to see what was happening. The fighting was vicious. I saw Oakheart had Redtail pinned to the ground, but then Redtail…”

He didn’t even realize the ground was coming at him until he hit it, face first, off the Highrock. He could hear the concerned calls of his Clanmates before the blackness bled into his vision, and the world disappeared.


	3. Chapter One

Ravenpaw woke up to a sweet scent, almost as if he had a bundle of grass pressed up against his nose. Blinking blearily, he tried to lift his head to get a better sense of his surroundings. The earth was soft under his paws, and he was surrounded by clean moss.

His whole body was aching when he shifted his weight up to look around. He was in the medicine cat den. He must’ve fainted after reaching camp.

He peered through the hanging tendrils of lichen that hung from the den entrance. He could see the Clan huddled around something, which he presumed was the body of Redtail—

Ravenpaw buried his head in his paws as the horrified expression of the former deputy flashed before his eyes, right before he crumpled to the ground, wheezing in a desperate attempt to react to Tigerclaw’s treachery—

Tigerclaw. Ravenpaw woke up from his nightmare in a sweat. It was night. An owl hooted in the distance, a chilling breeze swept through the medicine cat den. The cats outside were sitting vigil for Redtail. It was past moonhigh. Bluestar must’ve picked the new deputy already. Was it… No. She couldn’t. Could she? He peeked from between his paws to see the massive tabby tom standing, stone-faced, not even looking at Redtail. His gaze swung over to the medicine cat den. Ravenpaw gasped and ducked before they could make eye contact. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed sleep to come.

It was dawn the next time Ravenpaw woke.

“You’re awake,” Ravenpaw heard Spottedleaf say as she approached him from the shadows. The medicine cat seemed a lot smaller than he’d remembered, or maybe it’s because Ravenpaw had grown substantially since he’d last seen her. She floated towards him like she was walking on pebbles, ghostly silent, without disturbing a grain of sand on the ground. “It might be best if you close your eyes and get some more rest,” she advised. Spottedleaf never spoke above a soft murmur, but Ravenpaw never had trouble hearing her. He liked the peace the medicine cat den brought, with its quiet, and earthy scent of herbs. Spottedleaf was a delightful change from Tigerclaw.

Ravenpaw sighed and flexed his shoulder. The muscles screamed in pain, and he dropped back into a crouch, wincing. “How long will I be in here for?” he asked Spottedleaf.

“A while,” Spottedleaf replied matter-a-factly. “Maybe you’ll heal quicker, maybe it’ll take longer.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Each cat’s body and spirit are different, so even as medicine cats, we can never tell.”

Ravenpaw slumped down into his makeshift nest. _Great_ , he thought dejectedly. He peered outside the den again. Tigerclaw was by the fresh-kill pile. It looked like he was yelling at Graypaw about something.

_Great_... Ravenpaw thought again, this time with more conviction. If he was supposed to be in the medicine cat den, healing, then he wouldn’t have to see Tigerclaw, at least not for a while, according to Spottedleaf. This made his pulse race just the tiniest bit. The thought of avoiding Tigerclaw might’ve been the best thing that had happened to him in moons. Ravenpaw’s whiskers quivered in anticipation.

“Here are some poppy seeds to help with the pain,” Spottedleaf mewed as she pushed a leaf, littered with little black seeds, towards him. Ravenpaw lapped them up obediently. “Thanks, Spottedleaf,” he murmured before falling into a dreamless sleep.

He didn’t know what day or time it was when he woke up next.

“How are you feeling?” Spottedleaf asked as she rolled a large green leaf between her paws. The leaf smelled strong and bitter. Ravenpaw opened his eyes, wrinkling his nose.

“I…” He glanced at his paws, embarrassed. “I just want to forget everything.”

Spottedleaf blinked her large, sympathetic eyes at him. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ravenpaw,” she mewed gently, coming to give him a comforting pat with her paw. “The hardships of battle can wear down even the strongest cat. Being a warrior is truly difficult.” Her expression clouded. “That is why I chose to become a medicine cat instead of taking on the path of a warrior. I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting others, even when I was a kit. I would much rather heal them.”

Ravenpaw listened, but didn’t say anything back. He thought about asking her who Bluestar chose as deputy. Maybe that’d be something they could talk about instead.

Spottedleaf stared at him intently. “Ravenpaw, maybe this is something you’d like to consider.”

Ravenpaw wasn’t sure if he’d heard right. He snapped his head up. “What?” he meowed, not meaning to be rude, but he was so thrown off guard by the question that he didn’t know how to respond.

Spottedleaf’s whiskers twitched. “Not all cats are meant to be warriors,” she explained, letting out a tiny sigh, shifting her weight between her two paws. She seemed a little anxious. “That’s why there are kittypets and loners and Clan cats and medicine cats. We all have different things we need to do in this world.” She brushed Ravenpaw’s forehead with her tailtip affectionately. “If you’re not happy with being a warrior apprentice, maybe you’d like to be my apprentice. I wouldn’t mind an extra paw to help around the den. You would be a wonderful medicine cat, I think.”

Ravenpaw felt as if a stone had been dropped into the pit of his stomach. Was Spottedleaf saying he was better off being a _medicine cat apprentice_? No… This was a new low for him. Ravenpaw wanted to curl into a ball and never get up again. Was he really that _obvious_ of a failure, that the medicine cat was offering him an escape route into the medicine cat den? She was definitely doing it out of pity, Ravenpaw decided, wanting to hit his head on a tree a few times to clear the dark clouds that’d begun to form over his mind. He felt so heavy, so _useless_. Why couldn’t he be brave like his brother, Dustpaw? Or at least stupidly brave like Graypaw. Neither of them would’ve gotten themselves in this mess, because they would’ve been better fighters, better _warriors_.

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered finally, but not without feeling mortified, and without avoiding any further eye contact with Spottedleaf.

The idea might’ve begun to settle in without him realizing it, for Ravenpaw noticed he was starting to watch Spottedleaf intently in the next few days. Noticing how she administered herbs, and how she rolled up her cobwebs, and how she muttered under her breath when she was counting their stores of burdock root or yarrow or marigold. He started to learn the names of the herbs too, whether or not he consciously wanted it. Poppy seeds were easy—the flowers were bright red and the seeds were black. Tansy was bright yellow; at first he confused them with marigold, but soon he could remember that marigold had the bigger flowers, even though they were both yellow. Spottedleaf worked effortlessly and efficiently, never wasting time, even carefully calculating her breaks. She never seemed to get tired because of this, but Ravenpaw had to wonder if she’d ever wanted to get out of the medicine cat den for a whole moon just from the amount of time she’d spend in it, day in and day out. From time to time she’d disappear—Ravenpaw guessed to make dirt or to collect herbs, but she’d always return in a good mood, and continue with whatever she needed to do that day.

The other apprentices would come and visit him. He noticed how fast they were excelling at their training, how bulky and muscular they were becoming. Even Sandpaw, previously the most slender out of all of them, looked like she was made out of stone. Oh yes, they would come. And they would laugh and joke, and then they would leave. This depressed Ravenpaw to no end. He would try to practice battle moves, only to be greeted with the unbearable stabbing pain of his shoulder where the RiverClan warrior had hit him. Spottedleaf would only have to give him a stern glare for him to never try it again.

Tigerclaw never came and visited him, thank StarClan. Perhaps Bluestar had told him to stay away from him, perhaps Spottedleaf had suggested it. Ravenpaw noticed that the two seemed rather close, however, exchanging words while sharing fresh-kill or greeting each other at the beginning of the day. Maybe Tigerclaw couldn’t be all that bad, if sweet, caring Spottedleaf tolerated him, at least?

“Having fun spending all this time with Spottedleaf?” Graypaw teased as he slid into the den one day. Dustpaw, Graypaw, and Sandpaw had all suddenly decided to visit him. With all four apprentices in the medicine cat den, there was almost no room to breathe.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ravenpaw retorted, flicking his ears, attempting to seem nonchalant.

“I wish with all my heart sometimes that she wasn’t a medicine cat,” Graypaw mewed loudly as he plopped next to Ravenpaw with a dramatic sigh.

“Is she fixing you up?” Dustpaw inquired. “You look fine. When are you coming back to train with us?”

“I-I don’t know,” Ravenpaw stuttered in response.

Graypaw nudged Ravenpaw in the chest with his paw. “Has she given you any special medicine cat _treatments_?” he whispered.

“I’m not going to be here for this conversation,” Sandpaw declared as she turned to leave the den, but not without giving Ravenpaw a freezing glare with her icy green eyes. “You’d better stop wasting your time in here,” she said to him sharply. “You’re falling behind in your warrior training, and if you wait any longer, you might not be able to catch up.” She left with a huff of disdain.

“She’s got a stick up her behind,” Graypaw commented, shaking his head. “Don’t mind her.”

Ravenpaw blinked. “Is she right, though?” he asked timidly. He hadn’t thought about his warrior training in a while, but he guessed that it wasn’t something he could just shove aside and forget about. He was still a warrior apprentice, technically, and he’d have to return to it eventually, right?

Dustpaw shrugged. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, echoing Graypaw’s words. “You need to get better first. Tell Spottedleaf to hurry up or something.”

“She can’t do anything except wait for my shoulder to heal,” Ravenpaw said, muffling his words into his chest. But the apprentices had already left. Now it was just Ravenpaw, and his thoughts.

The silence of the medicine cat den, once comforting, was now horribly unbearable. Ravenpaw sank back into his nest by Spottedleaf’s storage of catmint—

“See, I even know what herbs I’m sleeping next to now!” he muttered to himself bitterly. He sighed in resignation, covering his head with his paws and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

He got up and wandered outside the den. It was just after sunhigh, and the newleaf warmth swept through the camp, illuminating it in a soft golden glow. He could hear the birds in the forest, chirping loudly as ever. His Clan members were milling about the camp. Bluestar was talking to Lionheart, the newly appointed deputy, by the fresh-kill pile, while the apprentices were wrestling each other a few foxlengths away. The elders were sunning themselves, chatting with Frostfur as she graciously delivered them freshly-caught prey. Frostfur’s belly was just beginning to show the hints that she was with kits. Spottedleaf said that she was going to have four, and that they were going to weigh her down very quickly. Frostfur seemed determined to keep going until Spottedleaf forced her into the nursery.

Everything seemed to be perfect in that moment.

Tigerclaw appeared through the camp entrance. Ravenpaw felt his blood run cold. His mind inadvertently flashed back to the night, _that night_ , when Tigerclaw had mercilessly sunk his claws into Redtail’s throat and ended the poor deputy’s life. Did Tigerclaw know that… he knew? Would he ever be able to speak up about it? Ravenpaw knew he had to. But he had to be careful. He was in deep water and if he wasn’t, he’d drown.

He let out a shaky breath and watched as his mentor stalked across the clearing to pick out a squirrel from the fresh-kill pile. He looked like he was in a bad mood. But when was he ever in a _good_ mood? Ravenpaw shuffled his paws nervously, took a deep breath, and then headed towards Tigerclaw.

The tabby tom didn’t even notice him until Ravenpaw stuttered his name. He jerked his head up and squinted at him. “So you’re finally out of the medicine cat den?” Tigerclaw growled, pushing aside the remains of his squirrel. “It only took a moon and a half.” He stood up, absolutely dwarfing Ravenpaw in his massive shadow. “So, you’re coming back to training?” Tigerclaw demanded, glancing down at him. No greeting.

“U-Uh,” Ravenpaw stammered.

“Speak up!” Tigerclaw snapped.

Ravenpaw almost jumped. He swallowed, feeling sick. “I don’t know,” he replied faintly.

Tigerclaw let out a low growl as he thrust his face so close to Ravenpaw’s that he swore he would’ve bitten off his whiskers if he’d come any closer. “What do you mean,” he asked softly. His breath stank of the prey he’d just eaten. “You don’t know?”

Ravenpaw, shaking, attempted to retreat a few pawsteps back. “I-I,” he began, “I mean. I mean, I might be… I might train with S-Spottedleaf in-instead?”

“ _What_?!” Tigerclaw roared, and Ravenpaw squeaked with fear, surprised he didn’t just bolt out of the clearing at once. “Did I hear you right?” he snarled, his claws looking unusually glinty and sharp in the sun. “Train with… Spottedleaf?”

Ravenpaw thought his heart might give out. He nodded feebly, looking around wildly to see if any cat was watching. Nobody seemed to have noticed.

“Absolutely. Not.” Tigerclaw’s meow was a deadly murmur. “No apprentice of mine will sit around on their fat, useless haunches and feed other cats herbs, babbling to dead cats. No apprentice of mine will be such a _failure_!” He pounded his claws into the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust.

“B-But Spottedleaf,” Ravenpaw gasped. “She was the one who suggested I should train with her. It’s not my idea, Tigerclaw, please don’t be mad…”

“Spottedleaf?” Tigerclaw growled, the tone of his voice growing inquisitive.

“Yes?” Ravenpaw answered uncertainly. “I-I… S-She said that I might be more use—I might be better helping her around the medicine cat den.” He struggled to catch his breath. “If you would just talk to Bluestar, she would understand—”

“You’re getting pretty _cozy_ with our medicine cat,” Tigerclaw interrupted, his tail lashing. Ravenpaw stared up at him in confusion. “Wouldn’t you say? You and Spottedleaf are… close?”

Ravenpaw felt fear grip him, so tightly that he almost couldn’t move or think. Somehow, there was nothing more terrifying than hearing Tigerclaw talking about Spottedleaf—innocent, kind Spottedleaf—

“N-No, Tigerclaw,” Ravenpaw mewed. “Nothing like that. I-I’ve been in the medicine cat den for a while…”

“That’s right.” Tigerclaw was so close that he was breathing into Ravenpaw’s ear. “For far too long, I should think. I want you out of that den tomorrow and up for the dawn patrol.”

“Yes Tigerclaw,” Ravenpaw squeaked.

Tigerclaw glanced towards the den. Spottedleaf was sitting by the entrance. Ravenpaw turned his head to catch her looking at them. She’d been washing her dappled pelt with her creamy white paws, and had paused to glance up. Her amber eyes locked with his. Ravenpaw couldn’t help feel a warm rush fill his belly. He felt his breath catch as he started to make her way towards them.

“Greetings, Tigerclaw,” she mewed. “Ravenpaw.” She dipped her head at him.

“Have you been filling my apprentice’s head with fluff, Spottedleaf?” Tigerclaw growled at her, but Ravenpaw heard a teasing purr underneath the gruff delivery.

“Not anymore than you have,” she replied, her eyes sparkling in friendly jest. “I’m just offering him a well-deserved break from your tales of grandeur.”

Tigerclaw snorted. “He needs to know his place in the Clan,” he said. “His _duty_ as a future warrior of ThunderClan. A member of his Clan, a warrior trained under the great Tigerstar.”

Spottedleaf purred in amusement. “Not so quick,” she replied, giving him a friendly nudge. Tigerclaw swept his massive, bushy tail over her shoulder, carpeting her tiny body like moss on tree bark.

“One day, I promise you, dear Spottedleaf,” was his only response.

Spottedleaf ducked out of his embrace and started her way back to the medicine cat den. “Be good, Ravenpaw,” she mewed at him as she passed. “Listen to your mentor.” She gave his forehead a playful flick of her tail before returning to her sunny spot by the medicine cat den, grooming her fur.

Tigerclaw’s friendly expression darkened. “Take a good look at her.” he hissed, so quietly that only Ravenpaw could hear him. Ravenpaw gulped and looked at Spottedleaf sitting by her den. “What am I supposed to be looking at?” he stuttered.

"See her? Now forget about her. She's mine."

Ravenpaw blinked, slightly confused. “What?” he began, but Tigerclaw silenced him with a brisk lash of his tail.

A brief silence passed through them. “A lot of things will change…” Tigerclaw began, “when I make the rules around here. And those who support that change will be greatly rewarded. You’d better listen to Spottedleaf, Ravenpaw. Be good, and listen to your mentor.” Before Ravenpaw could respond, the tabby slipped away.

Ravenpaw whipped his head to look back to where Spottedleaf had been sitting, but she’d gone as well. His heart was racing. What did Tigerclaw mean by all those words? And why did he have to bring the tortoiseshell medicine cat into it?

Ravenpaw had a thought flash into his mind. He suddenly wondered if… if Spottedleaf knew about Redtail. He inhaled sharply at the realization. She’d looked at Redtail’s body before the elders buried him, right? She… She had to know! She must’ve seen Tigerclaw’s fur between his claws, not Oakheart’s, as Tigerclaw had told the Clan!

Ravenpaw shook his head, and started pacing nervously. Maybe she thought it was Oakheart’s. After all, they were both brown toms… Or… if Tigerclaw had cleaned up Redtail’s body before dragging him back to ThunderClan camp… Well… Wouldn’t she have noticed that too? Or even Tigerclaw’s scent on his fur? Ravenpaw’s head was spinning with questions.

No. Ravenpaw could faintly recall that Spottedleaf had not checked on Redtail’s body. She’d been with him the whole time after he’d come back to camp. She never once went near the former deputy. Almost as if… she never felt the need to.

Ravenpaw felt his blood turn to ice. Something didn’t seem entirely right with Spottedleaf.


	4. Chapter Two

Ravenpaw had stumbled back into training after that exchange with Tigerclaw, and he couldn’t help but feel even more miserable than ever. It was obvious that he had a lot to catch up on, and even Graypaw’s constant cheeriness couldn’t get him to go on hunting patrols or join battle training without wanting to throw himself into the ravine. Tigerclaw was merciless, as expected, constantly berating him for his inability to… well, to do anything. Ravenpaw found himself making excuses to hide in the medicine cat den (when Tigerclaw wasn’t around, of course). Spottedleaf would always welcome him, and assuage his worries with comforting words.

“Dear Ravenpaw,” she’d say, “We can’t all be like Tigerclaw. But he is a great and noble warrior. You could learn some important things from him.”

Ravenpaw would sigh and grumble that she just didn’t understand that Tigerclaw didn’t exactly treat him the way he treated Spottedleaf. The question of Spottedleaf’s association with Tigerclaw would come to the tip of his tongue, but Ravenpaw would be too cowardly to take the initiative to actually ask. He was afraid of what he might hear. What he had seen after the battle at Sunningrocks, and the growing suspicion of Spottedleaf’s absence at Redtail’s burial gnawed at his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He wished he hadn’t been so woozy and disoriented during those crucial moments.

Ravenpaw often wondered what he should do, and who he should tell. If he was a good apprentice, he would’ve told Bluestar the moment he opened his eyes. Would she have believed him? Probably not. And then... Tigerclaw would’ve shredded his pelt, just like he did with Redtail. No, he was a dead cat if he wasn’t careful. He had the feeling that perhaps provoking Spottedleaf, a cat who seemed to be rather close to Tigerclaw, wouldn’t have been the best decision either.

Ravenpaw felt like a mouse, trapped under a pair of unsheathed claws.

Still, life went on in the camp like usual. Greenleaf was approaching, and the mood seemed to be improving since the loss against RiverClan. They’d been avoiding Sunningrocks, but not without throwing the sunning RiverClan cats a dirty look and a few hisses if a patrol happened to pass the area.

Ravenpaw tried his best to keep up with the other apprentices, but it was nearly impossible, as he’d fallen so far behind with his previous shoulder injury. The only one who was even partially sympathetic towards him was Graypaw, but even then, his friendly words didn’t make him hunt or fight any better. Dustpaw would always share prey with him when he failed to catch his own, although Ravenpaw knew he was only doing it out of pity.

Sandpaw was another story, however. As Bluestar’s apprentice, she had somehow grown into a huge ego overnight, and spent every waking moment trying to fill it.

“My StarClan, why is she so unbearable,” Graypaw muttered into Ravenpaw’s ear one night after they’d returned from a patrol, and Sandpaw had declared that she would get the first pick of the freshkill pile because _she_ “did the most work that day”.

“If both of you would stop fooling around, maybe you’ll get to eat first next time,” Sandpaw sniffed at them as she stalked past with a plump vole.

“That’s not even a rule, Sandpaw!” Graypaw whined.

“It will be when _I’m_ leader,” Sandpaw retorted, not even bothering to look at him before settling down to eat.

In addition, Sandpaw had somehow caught onto his consistent attempts to hide away from Tigerclaw’s wrath, and followed him into the medicine cat den one day. “Why aren’t you out training right now?” she demanded, almost scaring him out of his fur by approaching him from behind.

“Sandpaw!” Ravenpaw gasped. “I-I u-um I’m j-just, uh, um, well, y-you s-see—”

“Spottedleaf can’t help you with your warrior training,” she told him bluntly. “You need to work harder than any other warrior apprentice if you want to get better at hunting and fighting. You’re not going to improve just by sulking here.” She wrinkled her nose at him.

Ravenpaw sucked in a breath, trying to come up with a good response, but sighed in resignation when he realized she was right. He couldn’t even be offended. “I know,” he mewed softly, casting his eyes downward. “I’m trying...”

A tense silence passed between them. Sandpaw’s green eyes darted back and forth. Ravenpaw could tell she was thinking deeply.

“Get up early tomorrow,” Sandpaw ordered, lashing her tail as she whipped around to face him. He jolted to his paws at her command. “Meet me in the clearing to go hunting. I’ll help you train. You can at least make yourself useful around here and catch a few pieces of prey.”

Shocked, Ravenpaw could only stutter a few words and nod.

Ravenpaw slept fitfully that night, unable to ignore the tension creeping into his belly like dark, grimy tendrils. His limbs felt prickly with anxiety, and it wasn’t until the faintest dawn light peered over the horizon that he managed to sleep a few winks. The weather was clear the next day, and delightfully warm for an early newleaf morning. Ravenpaw met Sandpaw outside the apprentice’s den, groggy and tired and without much of an appetite, but he obediently finished the mouse she’d picked out for him, struggling to keep his eyes open. Sandpaw ate silently beside him, and gave her muzzle a quick wash after they were both done eating. She puffed up her pale ginger fur against the wind that’d swept into the camp. “I was thinking we should go towards Fourtrees this morning,” she mewed to him. “The patrols haven’t hunted there in a while.”

Ravenpaw nodded. Sandpaw swished her tail and headed out of the camp entrance with Ravenpaw at her paws. The forest ground was still cool and damp from the early morning dew clinging to every leaf and branch, soothing under Ravenpaw’s pawpads. His body still felt like it was crawling with fiery little ants. He didn’t know why, but he felt an unexplainable anticipation prickling under his pelt.

“Stop being so jumpy,” Sandpaw complained, “you’ll scare away every piece of prey from here to Highstones.”

“Sorry,” Ravenpaw mumbled, but only felt the feeling intensify. He shook his fur in an attempt to get rid of it.

The trees began to thin as they neared the path towards Fourtrees. The undergrowth was new and green, shoots filling the spaces where last season’s plants had died. Ravenpaw could scent prey in the air, heavy with the warming sun.

“Alright,” Sandpaw mewed as she halted, keeping her voice low. “I can see a robin over there.” She pointed with her tail. Ravenpaw followed her gesture to a fat, brightly feathered robin pecking at the ground a few foxlengths away, seemingly unaware of the cats’ presence. “You try to catch it.”

“Me?” Ravenpaw asked.

Sandpaw rolled her eyes. “No, the other cat I’m hunting with!” she hissed impatiently. Ravenpaw ducked his head, embarrassed. “Come on, get on those skinny paws and bring home some tasty prey.”

Ravenpaw dropped into a hunting crouch. He could almost feel his joints aching in protest. Great StarClan, was he an elder or an apprentice? He wriggled around and tried to settle comfortably, trying to remember where he was supposed to place his weight in his feet.

“Bird’s gone,” Sandpaw said suddenly. Ravenpaw stood up and looked at her. She glared at him. “You can’t take an entire moon to get into a hunting crouch.” She sighed and looked up at the sky for a moment, uttering a silent prayer to StarClan for patience. “Let’s practice the crouch. Remember, head low, backside high, and all your weight should travel smoothly between your front paws to your back paws so you don’t thunder around like a badger.” Sandpaw demonstrated for him, dropping from a sitting position to an impeccable hunting crouch in a blink of an eye.

“How do you do that?” Ravenpaw mumbled, in awe. “That looks just like how Bluestar hunts.”

“Practice?” Sandpaw huffed. “I don’t spend all day in the medicine cat flirting with Spottedleaf, you know.”

“I don’t…” Ravenpaw begin, feeling hot in the face, but he realized Sandpaw wasn’t listening.

“Hunting is really simple,” Sandpaw said to him. “It’s not like battle training where you have to constantly be on your toes and think about your next move. It’s the same three things every time. Watch me.” She gestured at a mouse that was scuttling by in the distance, indicating that she was intending to catch it. She dropped back into the hunting crouch, deliberately slowing down the movement so Ravenpaw could take mental notes. She moved with ease and fluidity, making him feel heavy and clumsy. He did gain some unsightly weight after lying in the medicine cat, waiting for his shoulder to heal. His ears burned with embarrassment. He looked like a plump, lazy kittypet compared to Sandpaw—compared to any of the other apprentices, he realized. Maybe Tigerclaw was right… He _was_ an embarrassment.

“Ravenpaw, are you watching?” Sandpaw’s voice snapped him out of his stupor. Ravenpaw blinked and nodded quickly. She rolled her eyes and then focused her concentration on the mouse once more. She carefully crept towards the mouse, feeling her way across the forest floor that was littered with crunchy leaves and sticks. Ravenpaw held his breath—not that he needed to, but he felt so anxious for Sandpaw as moved across the undergrowth, expecting the mouse to bolt at any moment. But it remained blissfully unaware of their presence, nibbling at a seed it’d found.

Once Sandpaw had gotten close enough, she bunched her hind legs and leaped, in a perfect arc, swiftly hooking her claws into the mouse before it could react, and throwing it into the air. With a squeak, it landed on the ground, too shocked to react. With lightning reflexes, Sandpaw sunk her teeth into its neck, killing it instantly.

The pale ginger she-cat smoothed down her fur as Ravenpaw padded towards her, his eyes wide with admiration. She nodded at him as she passed him the mouse, still warm from the recent kill. “And that’s how you do it,” she said, puffing her chest out proudly.

“Wow,” Ravenpaw said. “You’re amazing!”

Sandpaw gave her chest fur a few modest licks. “I hope Bluestar will give me my hunting assessment soon,” she mewed, her green eyes getting a faraway look. “Or even better, I hope she thinks about making me a warrior. She says that I’m ‘excelling faster than most apprentices’”. She couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice.

“Your only real competition is Dustpaw,” Ravenpaw pointed out as he walked over to sit next to her.

Sandpaw glared at him. “Exactly,” she said icily. “And even so, I’m still better than him. Well, at least I will be very soon. He might be way bigger than me now but I’ll figure out a way to beat him in battle. I almost got him last time we practiced together.” She shook her head. “Enough talk. You need to get some hunting practice done. Try to catch something.”

Ravenpaw’s whiskers twitched nervously. He nodded and opened his mouth to taste the air. Sandpaw’s catch had disturbed the forest floor, the fleeing animals kicking up different scents from all around the undergrowth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a squirrel descend from a nearby tree.

He dropped into the best hunting crouch he could muster. He was clearly out of shape, and his muscles started to hurt from holding his legs in one place for so long. Gritting his teeth, he ventured forwards, towards the squirrel.

His tail accidentally hit the shrub beside him, rattling the branches and sending the squirrel bolting back up the tree.

Sandpaw shook her head at him. “That’s a mistake you make on your first hunting patrol!” she hissed. “Don’t be so reckless! Be aware of your surroundings.”

“I was trying to look at the squirrel,” Ravenpaw explained, thoroughly humiliated.

“Use your other senses. If you’re doing everything right, the squirrel isn’t going anywhere.”

“But what—”

“Just shut up and try again.” Sandpaw’s eyes were slits.

Ravenpaw swallowed, and wandered a few paces away from Sandpaw. He could feel her steely glare burning into the back of his head.

_Ignore it, ignore it,_ he thought to himself, forcing himself to concentrate. He opened his jaws to taste the air. He felt as if the entire forest had run away from him. He sighed.

A thrush landed in front of him. Perfect. He crouched, and deliberately took his time to inch up towards it. It was going well so far. Nothing disastrous. Ravenpaw sucked in a breath, afraid that if he breathed too loud, he’d scare away the bird. He got as close as he possibly could, and leaped at it. He must’ve misjudged the distance. The thrush just barely slipped through his paws in a panicked flutter of wings. Ravenpaw smashed his paw down on a wing, struggling to get a grip on the prey with its teeth. The thrush screeched and threw itself against the ground, kicking up leaves and dust. He hooked onto the thrush’s twiggy leg, and struggled to get his claws into its glossy, slippery feathers. Ravenpaw finally killed it with a messy strike to its head. The bird fell still. Ravenpaw’s heart was beating so fast he could feel himself getting lightheaded again. The ground was littered with feathers and blood. Ravenpaw groaned in resignation and threw the dead thrush at Sandpaw.

Sandpaw’s whiskers twitched. “Definitely needs work,” she said coldly.

“Let’s go back to camp,” Ravenpaw muttered, picking up the thrush with his mouth, not wanting to look at her. “I’m done for today.”

Sandpaw didn’t say anything, but followed suit with her mouse. They made it to the camp entrance before Bluestar, Lionheart, Tigerclaw, and Graypaw emerged from the brambles.

“ _There_ you are,” Bluestar said, looking hard at them. “Where have you been? I was going to call you for dawn patrol, but you and Ravenpaw were missing from the apprentices’ den.”

“Have you been out here alone with her?” Tigerclaw snarled at Ravenpaw, making him jump a little. He almost dropped his thrush.

Sandpaw placed her catch at her paws. “We were just practicing some hunting techniques together,” she mewed, unwavered by fact that the leader and all the senior warriors had their eyes on her. “And we caught some fresh-kill for the pile, look.”

“Great StarClan,” Graypaw exclaimed, “is that a thrush or a furry leaf, Ravenpaw? How did it get so squished? What did you do to it?”

Ravenpaw felt his pelt burning with disgrace. “It was a close catch,” he mumbled through the feathers of his prey.

“I’d say!” said Graypaw, staring hard at his fresh-kill.

“Leave it alone, Graypaw,” Lionheart admonished in his deep, rumbling purr. “You know better than to taunt your fellow apprentices.”

Graypaw looked sorry. “Yes, Lionheart,” he said quietly.

“Hunting, did you say?” Tigerclaw interrupted, giving Ravenpaw a suspicious look. “So you’d say you got some good practice done?”

“Um… yeah…” Ravenpaw responded, unsure of how much he should say.

“You’d say you’re ready for a hunting assessment?” Tigerclaw pressed, his eyes narrowing menacingly.

“Uh,” Ravenpaw stuttered, the blood rushing from his face. “I wouldn’t say that…”

Bluestar cut him off with a curt nod. “Ravenpaw,” she said, her voice cool and gravely like it always was. “Because of your injury from the battle with RiverClan, I haven’t been able to assess your skills as much as the other apprentices. Perhaps setting up a solo hunting assignment for you would be a good way to start getting you back on track.”

“S-Solo?” Ravenpaw repeated. His pawpads suddenly felt very sweaty.

“Solo,” Bluestar repeated. Her blue eyes rested on him, only betraying the smallest hint of exasperation. “I believe you can do it. Tigerclaw,” she said, and he snapped to attention, “Make sure this hunting assessment is arranged within the next few days, preferably before the next Gathering. Sandpaw,” she mewed as she turned her attention to her apprentice. “The elder’s den needs cleaning. One-eye told me it’s been sloppy the past few times.”

“It was definitely not me,” Sandpaw insisted.

“A good warrior knows when to hold her tongue,” Bluestar meowed, her icy blue eyes unwavering. “I expect it to be spotless by the end of the day.”

And with that, she briskly turned her head and gestured for her patrol to continue into the undergrowth. Graypaw gave Ravenpaw a “you’re doomed!” look and strode away after the warriors.

“You,” Tigerclaw said pointedly at Ravenpaw. Ravenpaw shrank back. “We’ll talk about this hunting assessment when I return to camp. And you’ll be there, and not out wasting your time playing with she-cats. Clear?”

“Y-Yes,” Ravenpaw gasped. “Tigerclaw.”

Tigerclaw growled in annoyance, and left without another word.

Ravenpaw let himself sit back on his haunches and let out a small, frustrated yowl.

“Don’t be like that,” Sandpaw mewed. “Being impatient will only slow your progress. That’s what Bluestar always tells me.”

“I wish my mentor actually cared about me,” Ravenpaw said bitterly.

Sandpaw shook her pelt, a look of fierce determination glinting in her eyes. “Then _make_ him care!” she declared. “Show him you’re the best warrior in the whole forest. He can’t ignore you if you’re too good to be ignored!”

Ravenpaw was taken aback at her ferocity. “Y-Yeah,” he stuttered in agreement.

Sandpaw’s whiskers twitched. “Let’s go,” she mewed. “I have to clean that stupid elder’s den because apparently the rest of you toads can’t manage to get the dirty moss out properly.”

“I’ll help you, Sandpaw,” Ravenpaw offered as they picked up their catches and pushed through the camp entrance. Sandpaw looked back questioningly at him. “You helped me with my hunting,” he added. “I can help you with something like cleaning a den.” When Sandpaw still didn’t say anything, still staring at him in confusion, Ravenpaw felt his throat tighten as he looked away. “I mean... it’s only fair...? I don’t have to. Help you. You can do it by yourself if you want. If you really really want.”

Sandpaw shook her head. “You can help,” she mewed softly. “Sorry. It’s just that... nobody has ever offered to help me with anything before.” For the first time in his life, Ravenpaw saw the she-cat’s face soften with gratitude. He secretly thought the look suited her.


	5. Chapter Three

Ravenpaw and Sandpaw cleaned out the elder’s den in silence.

“What, did you two get into a spat or something?” One-eye croaked from her corner of the den as she watched Ravenpaw roll out a ball of dirty moss with her good eye. “Back in my day, us apprentices would go out for a good sparring match to settle our differences. These young folk are far too nice nowadays. You two need to for a wrestle in the sandy clearing and get all those ants out of your pelts.”

“No, One-eye,” Sandpaw said tiredly. “We just had a long day of hunting practice.”

“I’ve seen your hunting,” Halftail meowed to her, changing the subject to Ravenpaw’s relief and gratitude. “You may just be the best hunter in the Clan, Sandpaw. Bluestar is training you so well. Any word on your warrior ceremony?”

Sandpaw shook her head and licked her chest fur shyly. _False modesty_ , Ravenpaw thought, rolling his eyes. He didn’t think anyone saw, but he heard Smallear let out a purr. “Ravenpaw, _you_ on the other hand...” the elderly tom mewed, his voice cracking with age. “Until you can hunt as well as Sandpaw, you’re in no position to roll those eyes at her.”

Ravenpaw startled. “I didn’t mean—”

The elders broke out in raspy, amused purrs.

Ravenpaw slept fitfully again that night, his stomach turning in knots and his paws shaking in a cold sweat as he was pulled in and out of sleep. The stars rose and fell from the side of his vision as he would stare blearily at the horizon outside the apprentices’ den. He didn’t know why he felt so unsettled, and what was making him feel that way. Tigerclaw and his ominous, glinting claws continued to walk in his dreams. Ravenpaw often had nightmares about what he’d seen at Sunningrocks.

That night was no different. He was back at the scene of Redtail’s death, charging at Tigerclaw right before he could dig his claws in the previous deputy’s throat. He was always too late. Redtail would crumple to the ground, and Tigerclaw would take one swipe of his massive paws to knock the wind out of Ravenpaw, and he could feel the rocky ground tearing at his pelt as he skidded away. The last thing he would see would be Tigerclaw’s menacing snarl as he came charging towards him. Ravenpaw braced for death, but jolting awake before it could come.

“Stop wiggling,” Sandpaw muttered, half-awake, as she gave him a powerful kick with her hind leg from beside him in the den. “You’re so annoying.”

“Sorry,” Ravenpaw whispered, trying to make his fur lie flat. His heart was racing. He swallowed, forcing his breathing to even out again. He felt sick to his stomach.

Dustpaw and Graypaw stirred, paws twitching, but didn’t wake.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Sandpaw voice came softly through the gloom.

Ravenpaw hesitated. “Kind of,” he admitted, turning his head to give his shoulder a quick lick. He could taste the salty tang of his sweat that’d soaked through his fur.

Sandpaw curled up to sleep again, but not before reaching out a paw and resting it on Ravenpaw’s. Her pawpads were warm and velvety, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. “It was only a dream,” Sandpaw murmured, her words slurring as she fell back into unconsciousness. Ravenpaw watched as her side rose and fell. She slept so peacefully. Ravenpaw wondered what it was like to sleep with good dreams, or even no dreams at all. It seemed like it’d been so long since he’d been able to have a dreamless night.

Her paw was still there after Ravenpaw woke up the next morning. The sun had just peaked through the trees, turning the sky a soft pink. Birds began to sing, their shrill voices echoing through the camp. Ravenpaw slowly pulled his paw out from under Sandpaw’s, trying not to wake her. He cringed inwardly as he heard her mutter in her sleep. He hoped she wouldn’t go off on him for disrupting her slumber.

But she didn’t wake. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Ravenpaw emerged into the camp clearing. The Clan was just beginning to wake up. The ground was slightly damp. Glittering dewdrops clung to every leaf and branch, sparkling in the rising sun. Ravenpaw watched Frostfur walk out of Spottedleaf’s den, her belly now heavy with kits. He expected they would be born soon.

Bluestar saw him coming out of the den as she emerged from hers, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. “Ravenpaw,” she said as she padded over to him. “You’re up early! You don’t see that everyday.”

Ravenpaw ducked his head shyly. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.

“In that case, come on the dawn patrol,” she mewed in reply. “Graypaw is the only apprentice assigned to it this morning, but I’m sure he doesn’t mind having a friend come along. We should be heading out as soon as everyone is here.”

Ravenpaw soon figured out she meant Tigerclaw, Darkstripe, and Willowpelt, in addition to Graypaw and herself. He didn’t mind Willowpelt, but Tigerclaw and Darkstripe always made his pelt crawl. They were already scary as individuals, but when the two toms were together, Ravenpaw could almost sense his eminent death approaching. There was something about the way they stood together, and spoke, almost as if they were conspiring against the entire forest.

_That’s silly_ , he told himself as he saw them approach, but swallowed a mouthful of bile anyway. He saw Darkstripe glare at him with his cold, hard eyes. Ravenpaw shrank back as Tigerclaw stalked up to him and gave him a suspicious sniff. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“He’s joining the dawn patrol, Tigerclaw,” Bluestar replied coolly. “It’ll be good for his training.”

Tigerclaw raised his lip in the beginnings of a snarl, but knew better than to defy their leader.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” came Graypaw’s sleepy voice as he dragged himself from the apprentices’ den to the clearing, escorted by Willowpelt. Eyes half shut, he nodded at the warriors and propped himself up next to Ravenpaw. “I hate dawn patrol,” he muttered. “But Lionheart finally noticed that I’d been avoiding it for the past few days, so I’m on dawn patrol til the next Gathering.” He opened his jaws and let out a huge yawn.

The first few steps into the undergrowth were cold and uninviting, but as the blood started to pump to Ravenpaw’s limbs, he remembered why he enjoyed mornings in the forest so much. His paws were itching to tear through the forest, kicking up dead leaves and breathing in the icy wind to his lungs.

The cats padded along in silence. Even Graypaw was too sleepy to really be chatty, to Ravenpaw’s relief. He did enjoy being with his Clanmates, but he wasn’t one to talk his mouth off like Graypaw. He liked the quiet, the tranquility of solitude, and the comfortable silence between him and his companions. His favorite part of the day was sharing tongues with Spottedleaf, or Dustpaw, or any of the elders who decided to leave their den and visit the fresh kill pile.

Next to him, Willowpelt suddenly slowed her pace into a halt. “Bluestar, look at this,” she said, walking off the path and nosing something in the bushes.

Bluestar crinkled her brow and followed silver she-cat into the undergrowth. The rest of the patrol exchanged a glance and went with her. Ravenpaw felt his heart pounding like he was entering the heat of battle. He hoped it wasn’t something dangerous—

Willowpelt was standing next to a small pile of bones—mouse bones, by the looks of it. She pawed it and shook her head gravely. “It looks like it was eaten last night,” she mewed.

Bluestar padded forward and bent down to sniff the prey. “Not a scent I know of,” she growled.

“An intruder is on the loose in our territory, eating our prey!” Darkstripe hissed, his fur bristling in anger. “We must find them and get rid of the threat immediately!”

“Slow down, Darkstripe,” Bluestar ordered. “If there is a cat around, we don’t want to alert them of our presence.”

“What do we do, Bluestar?” Willowpelt asked.

Bluestar’s whiskers twitched thoughtfully. “Let’s make a sweep of the territory,” she meowed firmly. “We will split up and check to see if we find anything else. Willowpelt and Graypaw, you take the RiverClan border. Be especially alert for hostile RiverClan warriors—they’re still sore after that battle, I’d imagine. Tigerclaw, take Treecut place. I’ll go towards Fourtrees and see if there’s anything there. Ravenpaw, you’ll look along the Thunderpath.”

The loud, noisy Thunderpath? With all the monsters speeding by? Ravenpaw gulped, and tried to conceal his fear by giving his leader a confident nod. The patrol quickly dispersed, leaving Ravenpaw alone in the shadow of the forest canopy.

_There’s nothing to be scared of_ , Ravenpaw told himself as he started to make his way towards the Thunderpath. _You’re in your own territory..._

The stench of monsters was sour and filled his nose with an unpleasant, acidic tang. He coughed as he heard one of them thunder by, kicking up dust and foul-smelling air. How was he supposed to scent anything with all the monsters coming by? He blinked the dust out of his eyes, and tried to look around for anything that seemed out of place. Maybe some tracks, or scat, or another pile of prey bones—

A sharp crackle in the bushes made him jump. He could finally smell it—the unfamiliar, marshy tang of a ShadowClan cat—

Something heavy bowled into him, and Ravenpaw found himself clawing his way out of a thick, matted gray fur. He was being attacked! Ravenpaw whipped around to face the intruder, pelt bristling in fear.

She was a huge, dark gray she-cat with a squished, deeply scarred face and menacing snarl. He’d never seen a cat like her before. Her amber eyes glowered at him as she charged at him again. Ravenpaw scrambled to avoid her, but it was no use, he was slow and clumsy and she easily threw him against a tree trunk. Dazed, Ravenpaw stumbled to his paws and took a swipe at her with his claws just as she dashed by him, but she overtook him, slamming him to the ground in a chokehold with her massive, furry paws.

“Don’t kill me! Please!” Ravenpaw yowled, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for the final blow. His life flashed before his eyes. It was the end. This was it. This was how he was going to die.

It didn’t come. Instead, he heard a raspy peal of laughter come from the intruding cat. She loosened his grip on his throat. Ravenpaw gasped and scrambled clumsily to his paws, hopping away from her as fast as he could. He’d reinjured his old shoulder wound, and he could feel the pain stabbing at his muscles. He winced as he struggled to face her, feeling a trickle of blood on the side of his face from a scratch above his eye.

“Is this all ThunderClan sent for old Yellowfang?” the ShadowClan she-cat rasped, her long claws gleaming in the sun. “One measly apprentice. I could’ve _eaten you_.” She snapped her fangs at him. Ravenpaw jumped. “Alive!” she hissed as she circled him. Ravenpaw backed up against the tree, heart racing. “The kittypet I met back at Tallpines put up more of a fight than you, a well-bred _Clan cat_.” She spat at him. “Yes, he would’ve been quite a match for you, and he would’ve gone back to his Twolegs to drink milk and eat rabbit pellets after he’d skinned your pelt right off your body!” Ravenpaw said nothing, his chest heaving in fear.

The cat—Yellowfang, as she called herself—squinted an eye and studied him, hard. “Are you mute, scrawny pigeon?” she snapped, settling back on her haunches. She winced as she did, and Ravenpaw noticed that one of her legs was twisted at an awkward angle. She was injured. “Are they even feeding you properly? What, is ThunderClan starving again?” She shook her shaggy head. “That’s a shame. Brokenstar will clear you out like he did with WindClan, in a heartbeat.”

Ravenpaw still said nothing.

“Well, it’s a shame you didn’t have more meat on your bones,” Yellowfang hissed as she suddenly began to advance towards him. “I’ll just have to eat you the way you are.”

“No don’t!” Ravenpaw squeaked in panic, batting at her like a newborn kit bats at a piece of moss. “Just… Just let me catch you something!”

Yellowfang paused. “Oh?” she inquired, sounding intrigued. “A deal? Well, Yellowfang always likes to negotiate…”

Ravenpaw backed away from her slowly. “If I catch you something, promise to leave me… and ThunderClan… alone!” he panted.

“You catch me two pieces of prey,” Yellowfang rasped. “And then leave _me_ alone to hunt. But not a single _peep,_ and I’ll consider _sparing_ your life.”

Ravenpaw stuttered on his retort. “Th-That’s absurd! I can’t have you stealing prey unnoticed! That’s against the warrior code!”

“Then you die,” Yellowfang snarled as she unsheathed her claws and charged at him.

“Ahhh! Okay okay!” Ravenpaw screeched before her shadow could land on him. “Deal!”

Yellowfang stopped, and grinned, her yellow teeth huge. “That’s more like it.”

A rustle in the bushes behind them signaled the approach of cats. Ravenpaw could hear Tigerclaw’s barking voice. “Did he die?! Where is he?!”

“Oh foxdung,” Yellowfang cursed, struggling to her paws, but stumbling on her injured leg. She winced visibly. “The lot of them are here to get me. It’s time for Yellowfang to disappear.”

She barely made it a foxlength before the patrol burst through the undergrowth.

Bluestar looked amazed at the scene that they’d stumbled onto. “Ravenpaw?” she asked, her blue eyes wide. “What is this?”

Darkstripe and Willowpelt immediately bolted forward to surround Yellowfang, who bristled angrily at them. “I ain’t going anywhere,” she wheezed at them. “You can keep your filthy ThunderClan paws off me.”

Graypaw gasped, bounding towards Ravenpaw. “Wow, you caught a ShadowClan cat on our territory!” he squealed in excitement.

“More like I caught this little apprentice for a well-deserved meal,” Yellowfang growled at him, licking her jaws. “He was a perfect target for me, crashing through the forest like that.”

Bluestar looked at her coldly. “Whether your intentions were to eat my Clan members or not,” she began, “you are trespassing on ThunderClan territory. Yellowfang.” She shook her head. “You are the ShadowClan medicine cat, are you not? Are you here for medicine cat business? Graypaw, fetch Spottedleaf so she may speak with her.” Graypaw flattened his ears and started to start back towards camp.

“No, no,” Yellowfang rasped, growling as she shifted to stand in Bluestar’s presence. “I have no medicine cat business.”

Bluestar lashed her tail. “Then go back to ShadowClan.”

“I cannot,” Yellowfang retorted, her amber eyes glinting. “ShadowClan medicine cat, I am no longer. No... I am merely a lowly rogue scrounging up a meal in your territory.” She bared her teeth at the patrol who started to bristle at her. “And this apprentice is my accomplice.” All the cats looked at Ravenpaw as she mentioned him.

Ravenpaw shrank back at Bluestar’s hard glare. “Ravenpaw, is this true? Have you been bargaining with rogue cats?” she demanded. Ravenpaw had never seen his leader so angry.

“U-Uh, I-I…” Ravenpaw squeaked. He hung his head. “Yes, but I panicked! I’m so sorry, Bluestar…”

“What!” Tigerclaw roared. “You little traitor! You ought to be sliced and fed to the crows just like this dirty fleabag here!”

“Silence, Tigerclaw,” Bluestar hissed. “I will do the talking here.” She turned her attention back to Yellowfang. “You will come back to camp with us. Do as we say, and no harm will come to you.”

Yellowfang spat. “Peh. You’d better see that meatless coward over there gets a fitting punishment too.”

“I will indeed see to that,” Bluestar replied icily. “Ravenpaw, I want to see you in my den immediately after we return to camp. Darkstripe, make sure Yellowfang gets to Spottedleaf for her injuries.”

Darkstripe looked disgruntled at this agreement, but complied. The patrol made their way back to camp. Ravenpaw tried not to drag his feet, but he couldn’t find the spirits to lift them. Graypaw padded next to him, giving him a sympathetic glance from time to time. “Don’t worry,” he whispered to him. “Bluestar will be fair.”

“I’m done with,” Ravenpaw said miserably. “She’ll kick me out of the Clan for sure. I’ll be a loner.” He almost wailed.

“Don’t be a bee-brain!” Graypaw admonished. “Bluestar’s not going to exile you for wetting yourself in a battle with a rogue!”

“Don’t say it like that,” Ravenpaw protested, feeling his eyes getting hot with shame.

“Quiet,” Bluestar ordered sharply, and both of them held their tongues.

Ravenpaw pushed through the bramble entrance of camp, his head low. He saw Sandpaw dash out of the apprentices’ den. “Where have you—” she began, and stopped short when she saw the patrol come in leading Yellowfang. She bristled, and took a cautious step back at the strange cat.

The Clan fell into hushed tones as they stared incredulously at the newcomer. Yellowfang hissed at any cat who dared to venture too close as she limped towards the medicine cat den, guided by Darkstripe. Spottedleaf padded outside, and blinked in confusion at the sight of Yellowfang.

“Yellowfang,” she mewed. “I hope all is well in ShadowClan. Why have you visited?”

“Cut the formalities, Spottedleaf,” Yellowfang grunted as she finally let herself lay down in front of the medicine cat den, letting her injured leg twist awkwardly to the side. “Things are not well in ShadowClan.” She bared her teeth. “Brokenstar has gotten his way.”

Spottedleaf’s whiskers twitched in concern. “This is grave news,” she said softly. “StarClan will look down with heavy hearts at a leader exiling a medicine cat.”

“Ravenpaw! My den, please,” Bluestar meowed impatiently as she whisked by. Ravenpaw scrambled to his feet and followed his leader into his den under Highrock, ears flattened in embarrassment at the talk that he knew was coming. He tried to avoid the puzzled stare of Sandpaw and Dustpaw dropping his jaw at him as he padded past them, only giving them a brief glance before staring at the ground again.


	6. Chapter Four

It was cool and clean in Bluestar’s den, with springy moss lining the stone walls. The outside world melted away as Ravenpaw entered the darkness, his paws feeling the ground uncertainly.

Bluestar sighed as she curled her tail around her paws. “What am I going to do with you?”

Ravenpaw felt a lump gathering in his throat. “I’m so sorry, Bluestar,” he repeated shakily. “I really tried to fight her, I promise… but I just… I just…”

Bluestar raised her tail for silence. Ravenpaw whimpered, but forced himself to shut his mouth amidst his sniffles of humiliation. There was a long, terse moment when nobody spoke.

“Clan relations have been... difficult... ever since Redtail’s death,” Bluestar said finally. “As a leader, you always hope your deputy succeeds you, but... it’s not always the case.” Her blue eyes were full of sorrow. “It seems as if the whole forest shifts when a cat goes to StarClan. I know I’ve made some hearts bitter with my decisions.” Ravenpaw expected her to comment on Tigerclaw’s derision at Lionheart’s appointment as deputy, but as always, she surprised him. “Darkstripe must’ve been expecting me to give him Dustpaw as an apprentice, because he’s more than a little unhappy with Whitestorm filling that role instead.” Bluestar’s eyes got a faraway look. “But I stand by that decision. Your brother will be a powerful warrior regardless of who trains him, but his mentor will be the one who shapes his heart.” Her expression softened. “I hope you’re not resentful of me, Ravenpaw. I know Tigerclaw isn’t an easy mentor to get along with, but I wanted him to mentor you so he may show you courage. Perhaps I was wrong about that.”

Bluestar cast her eyes upward for a brief heartbeat. “Punishing a warrior for supposed cowardice doesn’t beat the fear out of him,” she mewed quietly. “It won’t make you braver if I made you clean out the elder’s den or put you on dawn patrol for a moon.” She sighed. “I do worry about what happened today, however,” she continued, “that you would trade the well-being of the Clan for your own life. Out of fear. Fear over loyalty.” She looked sad. It almost broke Ravenpaw’s heart. Was he doing that to her? “I must be able to trust all my warriors.” Bluestar rested her steely gaze on him. “A Clan falls apart without trust. I cannot be constantly worrying about how my subordinates will behave when I’m not watching. The Clan could never function if I were to spend all my time controlling my warriors, in fear that they may betray me or break the warrior code without my supervision.”

“You can trust me, Bluestar,” Ravenpaw murmured. He was absolutely mortified.

“Of course,” Bluestar said kindly. “But I worry about you whenever I send you out there, just like I would worry about any other member of the Clan. But you especially, because you never seemed to develop a taste for the warrior life.” She looked at him intently. “Ravenpaw, have you considered training with Spottedleaf instead?”

This caught him off guard. “I…” Ravenpaw began, looking at his paws. “Yeah. We talked about it a few moons ago. B-But… Tigerclaw…”

“Tigerclaw can direct his complaints to _me_ ,” Bluestar said firmly. “It’ll be a blow to his ego, but he has to learn that not everything can always go his way.”

“Oh StarClan,” Ravenpaw whimpered. “Please don’t make me do this, Bluestar! I don’t want to… I don’t want to be known as the failed apprentice who became a medicine cat because he couldn’t fight another cat or hunt a mouse...”

Bluestar blinked at him gently. “I’m not going to make you do anything,” she meowed. “This will be your own decision. But if you choose to continue your warrior training, you must pass your assessments like all the other apprentices.” Her voice was stern. “I’m afraid I can’t give you your warrior name until you do. But Tigerclaw cannot train you forever. He, unfortunately, does not have the patience for that.” She shook her head. “So I only suggest another path, Ravenpaw. You will still help the Clan tremendously as a medicine cat, but there will be less… fighting.”

Ravenpaw shivered. The den was suddenly icy cold.

A medicine cat... A cat like Spottedleaf? But... he wasn’t like Spottedleaf at all. And... Yellowfang was a medicine cat too, wasn’t she? No, he wasn’t like Yellowfang either. He wasn’t empathetic like Spottedleaf, and he wasn’t brash like Yellowfang. He wasn’t... _anything_. Could somebody like _him_ be a medicine cat? He’d never really thought about it—not even when Spottedleaf brought it up all those moons ago. Well... he’d thought about it for a heartbeat, but it was almost laughable because Ravenpaw would _never..._

He sighed. Everything Bluestar had said weighed heavily on his shoulders.

“Alright,” he whispered in resignation. “Alright then. I guess. I guess I could try it out. Can… Can you talk to Spottedleaf about it? And… And Tigerclaw?”

“Yes, of course,” Bluestar replied warmly. A long silence passed between them.

Bluestar’s words came floating back to him. _Trust._ Ravenpaw wondered, for all the emphasis she put on trusting her warriors, if Bluestar trusted Tigerclaw? She seemed to have a close relationship with him, but the fact that she made Lionheart deputy instead of automatically choosing him after Redtail’s death said... something. Maybe she _didn’t_ fully trust him… Perhaps Bluestar had secrets of her own, and things that she knew about Tigerclaw that she’s hidden from the Clan. Ravenpaw could not know how she decided Lionheart for deputy over the obvious choice of Tigerclaw, but she must know something. And if she didn’t know, she must at least feel it, somewhere deep in her heart.

Maybe this would be the time for him to reveal what he saw at Sunningrocks.

“Anything else?” Bluestar interrupted his thoughts.

“U-Uh…” Ravenpaw began. “I… Um… Uh…” He caught his leader looking at him expectantly.

 _Do it_!

“N-No,” he said quickly. “Thank you Bluestar.” Ravenpaw dipped his head in respect, and stood up to leave the den.

“Oh, Ravenpaw,” his leader said before he could exit. “Don’t think I forgot about your punishment.” Ravenpaw froze. “You’ll be helping Yellowfang around for the next few days. She’s our prisoner, but I expect her to be treated well.”

Ravenpaw swallowed, and nodded obediently. He definitely should’ve just let Yellowfang kill him, he thought miserably.

Bluestar slipped past him through the den entrance and immediately leaped up the Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

Ravenpaw followed her out, and took his place in the shadows cast by the massive boulder, hoping he could just melt away from existence. He tried to keep himself as far away from Tigerclaw as he possibly could. From the corner of eye he saw Spottedleaf and Yellowfang emerge from the medicine cat den. The other apprentices gathered on the opposite side of the clearing. Dustpaw caught his eye and gestured for him to come sit with them.

Ravenpaw hesitated, then padded towards him quickly, his head low, slinking through the crowd that started to gather beneath Highrock.

“I heard what happened,” Dustpaw said into his ear as he took his place beside him. “I can’t believe you just ran into a rogue on our territory! I heard it was a fierce fight! Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Ravenpaw muttered, giving his chest a few licks in embarrassment. He gave a sideways glance at Graypaw. He hoped that he hadn’t told Dustpaw and Sandpaw the part where he bargained for his own life out of desperation and panic. Or the part that Bluestar had convinced him to train with Spottedleaf. Or the part that he’d completely blown his chance to tell Bluestar the most important thing he’d ever known. Dustpaw didn’t say anything else, letting Ravenpaw assume that Graypaw hadn’t. He sighed in relief.

“Are we really keeping her here?” Sandpaw asked, looking at the old cat intently. “How do we know she’s not spying for ShadowClan?”

“I don’t think that leg of hers will get her very far,” Dustpaw observed. “And Bluestar has Darkstripe watching her.”

“I hope so,” Sandpaw said, still looking at the medicine cat den suspiciously.

“Cats of ThunderClan,” Bluestar yowled from the Highrock. A silence fell upon the Clan. “I’m afraid I have some very grave news. Today I traveled with a patrol into WindClan territory. The air was filled with the scent of ShadowClan. Almost every tree had been sprayed by ShadowClan warriors. And we met no WindClan cats even though we journeyed deep into their heartland.” She paused. “It seems as though ShadowClan has claimed the territory as their own.”

A collective gasp rippled through the assembled cats. “How is this possible?” Ravenpaw heard Patchpelt whisper to One-eye. The elderly she-cat shook her head. “Anything is possible these days,” she croaked back.

“This is undoubtedly the work of the new ShadowClan leader, Brokenstar,” Bluestar continued. “I feel that he will not stop with WindClan. We must keep our claws and eyes sharp for a possible ShadowClan invasion.”

“If ShadowClan is now our enemy, why are we keeping one of their warriors in our camp?” Darkstripe shouted out, lashing his tail. Yowls of agreement followed his statement. “She could be feeding Brokenstar all our secrets! She’s a spy!” He bared his teeth at Yellowfang.

The dark gray she-cat spat back. “I’d be more than happy to leave your filthy ThunderClan camp, but you’re the one keeping me here!”

“Enough!” Bluestar snapped. The Clan quieted down. “We have taken mercy on an elderly cat—a medicine cat, no less—who is injured.”

“If she’s in no shape to be by herself, send her back to ShadowClan!” Mousefur demanded.

“She’s no longer a ShadowClan cat,” Bluestar said coolly.

“An exile!” Runningwind meowed. “Bluestar, with all due respect, we can’t keep a criminal in our camp, can we?”

“ _I_ will interrogate her later,” Bluestar replied impatiently. “No cat is to harm her until everything is sorted out. I need ThunderClan to focus on securing our borders, now that an attack from Brokenstar may be imminent.”

“You’d better get some information out of her!” Patchpelt called out from his spot by the fallen log. “We can’t be feeding an enemy cat for nothing!”

Bluestar waved her tail for silence. “That is all I will say on Yellowfang. We will be moving on.” She cleared her throat. “In addition to these two pieces of news, I have a slightly happier one to announce.” Her blue eyes moved right onto Ravenpaw. His heart started to pound furiously. “Spottedleaf will be taking on a new apprentice.” A collective gasp followed her words. “Ravenpaw, will you come up here?”

Intrigued whispers rose in response to the announcement as all eyes turned to him. Ravenpaw shrank back, wishing he’d melt into his own fur. He felt Dustpaw bristle in confusion next to him, but he didn’t dare look at them. He slowly began to slink towards the Highrock, head low, trying to block out the noise of the Clan around him.

“Poor thing,” he heard someone murmur. “He’s scared of his own shadow.”

“I was waiting for this to happen,” someone else mewed. “Spottedleaf will be good for someone like him.”

“He was never cut out to be a warrior,” said a gruff meow.

Ravenpaw gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep his expression neutral. He didn’t want to seem like a huge scaredy-mouse in front of the entire Clan. He tried to look happy and proud as he slowly ascended the Highrock to sit next to Bluestar. The silvery she-cat nodded at him reassuringly. “Ravenpaw has expressed interest in following the path of a medicine cat,” she said to the assembled cats, whose eyes were boring into Ravenpaw’s pelt like worms on wood. “Spottedleaf will take him to the Moonstone at the next half moon, and he will be made an apprentice in the eyes of StarClan.”

The Clan murmured appreciatively. Ravenpaw saw a few heads nod in encouragement, and a few words of congratulations float through the crowd.

“Meeting dismissed,” Bluestar said. She jumped off the Highrock and expertly dodged the incoming crowd of anxious cats, slipping into the peace of her den.

Ravenpaw saw a few of his Clanmates cast him their final doubtful glances at him before dispersing into their everyday activities. He felt like a fish out of water. What was he supposed to do now? His paws felt stuck to the ground. Was he supposed to go to Spottedleaf’s den? After all, he _was_ in charge of taking care of Yellowfang. That seemed to be the right thing to do.

Slowly, he collected himself and slunk towards the medicine cat den, head low and ears flattened.

“Hey, medicine cat!” Graypaw mewed as he bounded over to him. Ravenpaw saw Dustpaw trailing behind him, followed in the distance by Sandpaw. “It’s about time Spottedleaf found someone to do her dirty work!” Ravenpaw could tell that he was trying to keep his tone light. It was strange to hear a cat who was as jolly as Graypaw to fake his enthusiasm. He must’ve really turned the Clan upside down with his decision.

“Yeah,” was all Ravenpaw could say.

“I’ll be sure to bring you my best catches of the day!” Graypaw said, bouncing on his paws excitedly. “Oh. You and Spottedleaf.” His whiskers twitched in amusement. “I have to go see Lionheart now, I think he wants to do more training. I’ll see you around, Ravenpaw! Don’t go crazy chewing up all those herbs!”

“Chewing up all those... what?” Ravenpaw repeated to himself, half-dazed as he continued his way to the medicine cat den. It wasn’t even that far from Highrock, but almost every single thing seemed to be stopping him from getting there.

“Ravenpaw.” It was Dustpaw’s voice. It almost made him jump. He’d almost mistaken his brother for Tigerclaw. “Can we talk?”

Ravenpaw saw him approaching, his amber eyes bright with concern. Ravenpaw looked away. “I don’t know,” he mewed, more curt than he wanted it to sound. He was so tired of it all. “Are you going to try to change my mind?”

Dustpaw slowed to a halt. He paused, and then shook his head slowly. “I just want to know that if you ever need a sleeping spot in the apprentices’ den, I have one next to my nest.”

Ravenpaw blinked. “Thank you, Dustpaw,” he murmured.

Dustpaw sighed, and padded over to him, pressing his nose into his ear. “Ravenpaw, when Robinwing was... was in Spottedleaf’s den... and she couldn’t even talk much anymore because the greencough had taken into her lungs...” He inhaled, closing his eyes to wash away the pain of the memory. “She told me—”

“I know, I know,” Ravenpaw interrupted, not wanting to relive the horrendous trauma of watching their mother slip away from them only a foxlength away from him. “She told you to protect me.”

“Because you were so important to her,” Dustpaw purred. “You almost didn’t make it. You were the smallest kit she’s ever had, but you beat all the odds. And you were her special one.” He stepped back and looked at Ravenpaw, almost proudly. “We’re kin. We have to support each other no matter what. So if this is what you want, I know Robinwing would want it to.” He nodded firmly, mostly to reassure himself. “Good luck, Ravenpaw.”

Ravenpaw watched him walk away, following with his weary eyes, scared to see what he was most dreading somewhere along the horizon. Tigerclaw. Oh, Tigerclaw would not have been happy with the news. How would he take it out on him? Ravenpaw shuddered. The best thing he could hope for was for Tigerclaw to leave him alone, or maybe spit a few harsh words at him if they ever bumped into each other at the fresh-kill pile. Ravenpaw couldn’t help but think of Redtail as the thought passed his mind, and he almost lost his footing at the mental image of the former deputy bleeding his insides out on the grass by the river. He most certainly did not want to be the next Redtail, but that reality seemed to be drawing closer and closer each day. He squeezed his eyes shut to clear his mind.

When he reopened them, for better or for worse, Sandpaw came into his field of vision. She was sitting by the Highrock—it didn’t seem like she’d moved since the meeting. She was glaring at him. Ravenpaw felt a cold sweat run down to his pawpads. He stared back at her, feeling incredibly mouse-brained with his mouth gaping. She continued to glare at him, her expression unmoving. Ravenpaw gulped and thought that it was probably his cue to go talk to her. He padded over cautiously. He felt like he was entering an adder’s den.

“I don’t know what Dustpaw said to you,” Sandpaw began as soon as Ravenpaw was within earshot. He cringed in anticipation of getting his ear snapped off. “But it looked like he was being far too nice for it to do any good.”

When Ravenpaw didn’t say anything—mostly out of sheer terror—Sandpaw continued, “ _I_ personally don’t think you should do it.” She shuffled her paws awkwardly in the dirt. “Train to be a medicine cat, I mean.” She sighed. “Well, first of all... you’ll be around sick cats all the time. All day. All night. And you’re going to see a lot of cats die.” She blinked, as if she was mentally ticking off a pre-prepared list for him. “A lot of things will be out of your control. And you’ll have to memorize so many herbs and treatments and diseases... It’s really tough.” She tilted her head at him. Ravenpaw could see his own reflection in her eyes. “And then you have to communicate with StarClan, interpreting signs for the Clan. I don’t know if a medicine cat has ever gotten a prophecy wrong before, but I would imagine it has a lot bigger consequences than let’s say...letting a rogue cat eat our prey.” Her whiskers twitched in amusement.

“Oh?” was all Ravenpaw could think to say.

Her face darkened. “What do you mean ‘oh’?!” Sandpaw demanded.

Ravenpaw flattened his ears. “Sorry! I just d-didn’t think... I just didn’t think you’d care... that much,” he mewed, swallowing nervously.

Sandpaw looked at him incredulously. “I don’t know if you recall,” she snapped, “the amount of time I spent helping you on _your_ training was more than I would’ve ever spent on my own.” She scoffed in disbelief. “Do you think I would do that if I didn’t care?” Her voice wobbled, and rose in pitch, and Ravenpaw realized it may have not been due to some sort of... self-inflicted righteous disappointment, like he’d initially thought. Sandpaw sounded... hurt? Emotionally gutted. What was going on?

“I must’ve called you useless way too many times,” Sandpaw muttered to herself, unsheathing her claws and running it through the dirt in frustration. “Bluestar was right. I should be more careful with my words.”

“No,” Ravenpaw insisted. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Really?! Then what’s making you do this?” Sandpaw almost sounded desperate. “There’s something you aren’t telling us. I know it.” She lashed her tail. “But I suppose you won’t tell me, of all cats.”

“I-I’m sorry?” Ravenpaw mewed quietly, trying to study her face. She was trying to look away from him, but he could still see it. The same expression he saw on Redtail’s face before he crumpled to the ground. Betrayal.

“There’s nothing for _you_ to be sorry about,” Sandpaw growled, each word sounding like a claw puncturing into Ravenpaw’s chest. “ _I’m_ sorry I put in so much effort for you to just give up.”

For some reason, those words stung the most. Ravenpaw lowered his head. “I didn’t give up,” he murmured into his chest fur, knowing that he trying to convince himself more than Sandpaw.

“You did give up! Everything,” Sandpaw spat insistently, her green eyes blazing for a heartbeat. Then the embers dimmed. The passion, anger, disappointment, pain—all contained in a fraction of a moment—they were all gone. Her eyes were cold and unfeeling once more. “If you haven’t forgotten, medicine cats can’t have mates or kits. You’re never going to have a normal life, Ravenpaw. But don’t come crying to me when you need me to help you again, because this time, I _can’t_.”


	7. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a kit-birthing scene in this chapter. Reader discretion advised!

“Ravenpaw. Ravenpaw? ...Ravenpaw.”

Ravenpaw was watching Graypaw and Lionheart wrestle in the clearing of camp. Lionheart had Graypaw in a headlock for a few heartbeats before Graypaw pleaded for release, his hind legs flailing.

“ _Ravenpaw_!” He found Spottedleaf peering intently at him, her brow furrowed. “Are you listening?” she asked.

Ravenpaw shook his head and turned his head away from the scene outside the den. “I’m sorry,” he mewed in reply, straightening himself up and forcing himself to stay alert.

Spottedleaf sighed, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice. “Alright.” She had a plethora of leaves and flowers and sticks and roots laid out before them on the soft earth. “Let me see how much you remember of your training.”

Ravenpaw sighed. He didn’t particularly enjoy being tested on his knowledge, but it was definitely better than getting his pelt shredded by Tigerclaw every time he did a battle move wrong.

“Poppy seeds,” Ravenpaw began, pointing with his tail at a leaf holding a pile of black seeds. He lifted the red flower lying next to the leaf with his teeth and shook it carefully over the leaf to demonstrate. A few black seeds fell out from the head and landed with a faint scattering sound. “They dull pain and help cats sleep. One or two seeds is the regular dose... but sometimes for bigger cats you need to give them more. Or if they have very intense pain. But we don’t usually want to give them too much, or else they become reliant on it.”

Spottedleaf nodded encouragingly, her amber eyes glowing with pride. “That is very detailed and thorough,” she praised. “You are learning so well.”

Ravenpaw nodded shyly as he moved onto the next herb. It was a soft green and made his mouth water. Ravenpaw recognized it as catmint. “This is catmint. It cures greencough and whitecough. We collect it from Twoleg gardens for the winter, when greencough hits its peak.” Ravenpaw saw that the next bundle was the heads of small, yellow flowers. “Tansy can help with coughs and soothe sore throats” He moved onto the next herb. “This is burdock root. We only use it for rat bites.”

“Amazing, the kit actually remembers all the information you’ve stuffed into his brain,” Yellowfang’s rasping growl broke through Ravenpaw’s concentration. He and Spottedleaf turned their attention to the large gray she-cat slinking into the light, hobbling on her injured leg.

Spottedleaf stiffened. “Yellowfang,” she said curtly. “You’re awake.”

“Yes, with all your nonsensical chatter, of course I was woken up,” Yellowfang muttered as she slid up to them. “What’s this?” she demanded, looking at Spottedleaf’s herb pile. “You’ve pulled down the entire herb store for this?”

“Yes, I thought I’d start with the basics—”

“The basics?” Yellowfang snorted. “Look at him. Bees are entering his brain as you speak. He’s not going to remember any of these when he actually has to treat a sick or injured cat.” She turned to Ravenpaw, her amber eyes glinting at him. “Have you ever trained an apprentice, Spottedleaf?”

Spottedleaf’s whiskers twitched. Her eyes, usually warm and full of life, were expressionless. “No,” she mewed.

“Obviously not.” Yellowfang let out of an “oof” and squeezed between her and Ravenpaw. “Ravenpaw, what would you give me for my leg?”

Ravenpaw blinked at her. “Ah…” he began, uncertain of what she was asking. “H-Hypothetically… or did you want something now…?”

Yellowfang growled, “This is part of your test now.”

“Yellowfang—”

“Put a mouse in it, Spottedleaf.” Yellowfang lashed her tail for silence. “Okay. First thing you do. A cat says something hurts. Ask them what happened.” Ravenpaw could feel a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. “Go on, ya useless duck!”

Ravenpaw jumped to attention. “W-What happened. To your leg?” he managed to stammer as Yellowfang’s tail continued to lash impatiently.

“Fought another cat and got injured that way,” Yellowfang shot back. “Now look at my leg. What do you see?”

“N-Nothing?” Ravenpaw squeaked.

“Wrong!” Yellowfang roared. Ravenpaw flattened himself to the ground in fear. “No visible outward injuries—no blood, no cuts, no open wounds—but my leg still hurts. What does that mean? Come on, use your brain!”

“M-Must be something on the inside?”

Yellowfang grunted as she threw her bad leg towards him. “Look at this leg. This is the injured one. Now look at my other leg. See it?” Ravenpaw nodded, feeling faint. “Now tell me what you see.”

“T-The injured one is bigger,” Ravenpaw gasped.

“Correct!” Yellowfang roared again. Ravenpaw felt his heart jump into his throat. “The swelling means the inside is injured. Probably a pulled muscle or sprained joint from fighting. We’ve all had them. The details aren’t so important.” Yellowfang pulled her leg back under her. “The body will heal almost everything, as long as you help it. So get on it, get me something for the swelling!” She bared her teeth at him. Ravenpaw squeaked and looked at Spottedleaf expectantly. The tortoiseshell she-cat shook her head and started searching her herb store.

“Well, walk him through it!” Yellowfang meowed pointedly.

Spottedleaf’s eyes were narrowed in annoyance. “We’re going to use stinging nettle for the swelling,” she said to Ravenpaw as she pulled out a bundle of grainy green plants. “We chew it into a poultice and spread it on the injured area.”

“Chew?” Ravenpaw echoed.

Spottedleaf nodded at him, the irritation fading from her expression. “We do have to get our mouths dirty sometimes,” she purred, nudging him playfully. “It’s something you’ll have to get used to. Go on. Usually three to four stalks will do the trick for a poultice. I’ll chew half and you chew the other half. Spit it out onto your paw and spread it on her leg.”

Ravenpaw took the nettle leaves into his mouth tentatively. He crushed a leaf slowly between his teeth. Immediately, a bitter fluid filled his mouth. He spat it out reflexively. “Agghghh!” he yowled, running his paws over his tongue. “That’s foul!”

“That’s not the worst thing you’re going to experience in this den!” Yellowfang yowled at him.

“Alright, enough,” Spottedleaf snapped as she swept the herbs away from him with her bushy tail. “Take a break. We’re done for now. Take a walk and clear your head, Ravenpaw.”

“Spottedleaf...” Ravenpaw whimpered.

“Please!” Spottedleaf insisted. She turned her back on him, effectively ending the conversation.

Ravenpaw obeyed, dragging himself out of the medicine cat den with his head low. He didn’t really know where to go, because he’d moved out of the apprentices’ den, so he couldn’t go and hide in there anymore. His new home was the medicine cat den. Spottedleaf had made a little nest for him right beside hers, but he found it difficult to sleep. There were too many scents, too many shadows, too many new sights and sounds that he couldn’t get used to. He skittered to a stop in front of the warriors den, and stared at it forlornly.

He sighed, suddenly his shoulders feeling heavy again. He always thought Bluestar would give him his warrior name. Someday, somehow... He’d receive his warrior name and he would proudly make a nest in the warriors’ den. And... become maybe even more than that? He never saw himself as a particularly handsome or attractive cat, but he’d always assumed that he’d find a nice cat who’d wanted to be his mate, and they’d have kits one day.

That life he’d thought up for himself seemed so far away now. He was cooped up in the medicine cat den all day and night. His paws itched to stroll through the forest floor, ears pricked for the sounds of prey. He missed sharing fresh-kill with his friends. They were nearing their warriors ceremony. Bluestar would be giving them their warrior names any day now. Ravenpaw would have to watch them from afar. The thought depressed him.

It wasn’t though he didn’t _like_ being a medicine cat. It had its ups and downs. Warrior training was taxing, but being a medicine cat was so hard too… in a different way. All the herbs he had to remember, and the constant stream of sick cats coming in and out of the den… He remembered how he’d watched Spottedleaf work tirelessly day in and day out when he was resting his injured shoulder a few moons ago. Would he ever be able to keep up with her work ethic?

 _Probably not_ , he thought glumly.

He was out of options. If he couldn’t be a warrior or a medicine cat, what other choice did he have? He was an absolute dead weight to the Clan. Useless. They were essentially keeping him alive for nothing. Ravenpaw briefly thought that it may be better for them if he wasn’t there at all.

He sat there for a heartbeat, hanging his head. What was he going to do now?

“Hey,” came a small voice from behind him. Ravenpaw whirled around to see that Sandpaw and Dustpaw had returned to camp. They must’ve been on patrol together. “Shouldn’t you be in the medicine cat den?” Dustpaw asked. “How’s training going?”

“It’s alright,” Ravenpaw replied. Dustpaw nodded respectfully.

A tense silence passed between them. Sandpaw said nothing, looking away purposefully. Ravenpaw could tell she was forcing her fur to lie flat. She did not seem happy.

“So...” Ravenpaw mewed awkwardly. “Are... you two going to the Gathering?” he asked in attempt to strike up casual conversation.

They both shook their heads. “Bluestar said that it may be best if we don’t right away, in the... wake of...” Dustpaw hesitated.

“Redtail’s death,” Sandpaw finished bluntly.

“Yeah,” Dustpaw mewed, looking visibly uncomfortable by her comment. He tried to flatten his bristling fur. “Because you know. He was my mentor and... Sandpaw’s father. So...” He swallowed. “Bluestar thought there’d be too many... questions.”

Sandpaw scoffed. “By that logic, Spottedleaf shouldn’t go either. She’s his littermate.” She sounded peeved.

“Well, Spottedleaf is the medicine cat, she kind of has to go...” Ravenpaw pointed out.

“I know,” Sandpaw mewed curtly. “And you have to go too, because you’re the medicine cat apprentice.” Ravenpaw had never heard her spit out a string of words so bitterly, like they were poisonous herbs in her mouth.

“I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat, Sandpaw,” Ravenpaw mewed earnestly, in an attempt to make friendly talk with Sandpaw. She was nothing but solid ice to him ever since their last... _heated_ discussion about Ravenpaw’s new position as medicine cat apprentice. He missed talking to her. But his appeals fell on deaf ears. Sandpaw clamped her mouth shut and refused to say any more.

“Let’s go,” Dustpaw interjected suddenly, lashing his tail impatiently. “I’m like a dead mouse. I’m so tired. I need to go to take a quick nap before Whitestorm drags me out again. Come on, Sandpaw. See you later, Ravenpaw.” He gave Sandpaw a slight nudge with his shoulder and turned towards the apprentices’ den, gesturing for her to follow suit with a sweep of his tail over her flank. Sandpaw blinked at Ravenpaw once, and then followed Dustpaw to the den. Ravenpaw noticed how close they were pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, their tails almost intertwined. He saw Dustpaw whisper something into Sandpaw’s ear as they disappeared into the den.

He imagined they were going to sleep side by side that night. Did Sandpaw comfort Dustpaw when he had nightmares as well? Did Dustpaw even have bad dreams? Ravenpaw tored his gaze away from the apprentices’ den. He suddenly felt unbearably lonely.

“Help! Help!” came a distressed wail from the nursery. Ravenpaw pricked up his ears. He could recognize it as Brindleface’s voice. He dashed towards the bramble bush. “Ravenpaw, thank goodness!” The queens were crowded around Frostfur. “Frostfur’s kits are coming!”

Frostfur let out a low moan. “They’re coming fast,” she gasped. “I can feel it...”

“I-I’ll get Spottedleaf!” Ravenpaw stuttered, turning his heels and running to the medicine cat den. He could hear the loud, barking voices of Spottedleaf and Yellowfang in an argument as he neared them.

“You don’t come into my Clan and tell me how to train my own apprentice!”

“Trust me, I wasn’t doing it for you.”

“If you could just keep quiet and out of the way, things would run a lot smoother around here.”

“Is that what you tell the kit too? No wonder he’s an absolute wreck!”

“Spottedleaf!” Ravenpaw interrupted breathlessly. “Sorry...” He halted, his eyes darting back and forth at the bristling she-cats before him. “...if I’m interrupting something.”

“On with it,” Yellowfang snapped.

“Frostfur’s kits!” Ravenpaw panted. “They're coming!”

Spottedleaf nodded. “Ravenpaw, can you fetch a bundle of chervil and fennel? And maybe a stick for Frostfur to hold onto while she kits. I trust you know where to find those. Additionally, we will need thyme, chamomile, and borage leaves for after she finishes. Once you get those herbs, follow me to the nursery.” She slipped out of the den without another word.

“T-To the nursery?” Ravenpaw stuttered. “Like... to help with the... kitting...?” He almost fainted at the idea of delivering kits. But Spottedleaf had already gone.

He saw Yellowfang grinning at him with her horrible, big teeth. “Told you chewing herbs wasn’t the worst thing you were going to experience around here," she rasped, purring until she was out of breath.

Ravenpaw squirmed in his pelt. He heard a shriek of pain from across the clearing. Frostfur sounded like her innards were being sliced out by a well-sharpened claw. Ravenpaw swallowed the bile rising in his throat. _Okay, focus_ , he told himself, trying to take a deep breath. _What was Spottedleaf’s first order? Comfrey? No... that doesn’t sound right..._ Ravenpaw’s mind was spinning. He pawed at the herb storage, trying not to lose his nerve. _She said she needed thyme. I know what thyme looks like_. He could feel his heart speeding up as he rustled through the store desperately. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of what thyme looked like. Green. Soft. But that was so many plants!

He huffed in frustration, pawing aside poppy flowers, scattering the seeds across the den. He paused. What was he looking for again?

He heard another screech of agony from the nursery. He almost jumped at the sound. He had to hurry. Hurry. Hurry! Frostfur needed him to be there with the herbs. But he couldn’t. His mind had completely blanked. What did Spottedleaf even need again? He couldn’t remember for the life of him. He sat there, in shock, for what seemed like almost an eternity before he felt Yellowfang’s huge body shove him aside.

“Absolute crowfood, the way you’re handling this,” she spat at him as she dragged out a large beech leaf and laid it flat before her. “You think you have time to think when a cat is bleeding his life away?” She scooped out a bundle of neatly-tied white flowers. Chamomile. She threw it onto the leaf. “You think Frostfur’s kits are going to wait for you to get there?” Yellowfang dug into the herb store, muttering as she plucked out a bundle of thyme, borage leaves, and chervil. “Now where do you ThunderClan cats keep your fennel. Ah.” She found the fluffy plant in a crack in the rock above them. “Now roll that leaf up and get to the nursery as fast as those skinny legs can take you. And _don’t_ forget that stick. I will shred your pelt if you forget that stick!”

Ravenpaw could barely stutter out the words to thank her as he stumbled out of the medicine cat den, shoving a stick into his rolled up beech leaf before hurtling himself towards the nursery.

“There you are,” Spottedleaf mewed impatiently as Ravenpaw threw himself into the thicket of the bramble bush, heaving in exhaustion as he dropped the bundle of herbs at Spottedleaf’s paws. “Her first kit is about to come.”

“Poppy seeds!” Frostfur croaked, her eyes squeezed shut in pain as her body spasmed. “Please, I’m going to die...”

“Please stay calm, Frostfur,” Spottedleaf purred. Ravenpaw could absolutely not believe how steady and cool her voice was, like golden honey, when all he could smell was the reek of kitting in the nursery. Brindleface, Speckletail, and Goldenflower had stepped aside a considerable distance to let the medicine cat do her work.

“It hurts so much!” Frostfur protested, biting back another scream.

“I know,” Spottedleaf continued to say soothingly. “Ravenpaw, give her the stick to bite onto.”

“H-Here,” Ravenpaw stammered as he pushed the stick towards Frostfur. The white queen took it in her mouth. Ravenpaw could hear it crunch under her teeth as it muffled another agonizing yowl. The sound shook Ravenpaw to his core.

“Make sure she remains calm and focused,” Spottedleaf meowed to Ravenpaw. “She needs all her energy to push out her kits. She’s having four.” Ravenpaw nodded, but his mind was whirling again.

Frostfur dropped the stick from her mouth and let out a screech so loud Ravenpaw was sure his ears had broken from the sound. “N-No,” Ravenpaw gasped as he forced the stick back into her mouth. “Just... just breathe...”

“What do you think I’m doing, you mousebrain!” Frostfur moaned as her claws dug into the earth beneath her. “Give me some of those herbs, now!”

Spottedleaf didn’t seem to have heard, so Ravenpaw padded over to the bundle of herbs. “Ah...” he said to himself uncertainly. He wasn’t sure what to give her. He must’ve gone through these herbs at some point, but he couldn’t remember at all. Another muffled scream came from Frostfur. He could feel her thrashing from behind him, her tiny body convulsing in pain. There was no time to think. He took a little bit of everything, and brought it over to Frostfur. “Eat these,” he ordered, and watched as she feverishly gobbled all the herbs into her mouth.

“Here it comes!” Spottedleaf announced, pressing her paws on Frostfur’s hindlegs. “Ravenpaw, break open the sac as soon as the kit is delivered. Be very careful! Don’t bite the kit. Just the sac.”

“The what!?” Ravenpaw asked breathlessly, his blood turning cold. He crept over to where Spottedleaf was standing. He almost felt his morning meal coming up from his stomach as he saw the head of the first kit emerging from between Frostfur’s legs, slick and bloody. It was covered in a greenish-sac, thick fluid pouring out after it, soaking Frostfur’s pure white fur in spikes of blood.

“Break the sac, Ravenpaw,” Spottedleaf ordered as she pressed her paws onto Frostfur belly, feeling around for the next kit. “The kit has to breathe. Now!”

Ravenpaw squeaked in protest as he squeezed his eyes shut and sunk his teeth into the sac. He could taste the salty fluid as it burst between his jaws, splattering all over his muzzle. He somehow resisted the urge to vomit onto the kit—it was probably because he wouldn’t dare think of the repercussions if he’d actually vomited on the kit—and pried away the remaining membrane as the kit fell into the world, screaming and mewling for its mother. “A she-cat!” Ravenpaw gasped, seeing black spots enter his vision as he finally let himself release the breath he’d been holding.

“Good,” Spottedleaf said loudly over Frostfur’s continuous yowling. “Now see the cord on the kit’s belly? Break it with your teeth.”

Ravenpaw could feel his paws shaking as he did as he was told. It tasted even worse than the birthing sac.

“Lick her fur the wrong way to warm her,” Spottedleaf mewed. “The next kit is coming! Keep pushing Frostfur!” Frostfur groaned in response.

Ravenpaw lapped furiously at the kitten between his paws. She mewled and thrashed in protest. Ravenpaw could see, as he cleaned up her wet fur, that she was a fighter. She was dark gray, and even though her eyes were squeezed shut, she took every chance she had to swipe at his muzzle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spottedleaf pass a golden-brown tabby kit to Brindleface by the scruff. She settled with him in her paws and started licking him. Then another one came, another golden-brown tabby that looked exactly like its previous sibling. Goldenflower graciously stepped in and took over, licking his fur until it was no longer wet. Finally, the last kit was delivered, a ginger-and-white she-cat, squealing loudly as Frostfur demanded she be put by her belly.

“Oh, my precious,” she gasped as she ran her tongue across the kit’s slick pelt. “My kits, can I have my kits...”

Ravenpaw glanced at the kit between his paws. She’d fallen asleep, her teeny face twitching as she dreamed. He lifted her into his mouth and walked over to Frostfur, gently placing her firstborn into the crook of her belly. All four of her kits started suckling immediately. Ravenpaw heard Spottedleaf sigh in relief. “Good work,” she mewed, “thank you, thank you,” she said to the queens who had taken up a comforting presence around Frostfur, soothingly patting down her fur and giving her ears a wash. “And thank you, Ravenpaw, you did well,” Spottedleaf acknowledged him, nodding with a sparkle in her eyes.

Ravenpaw nodded fervently, and turned around to exit the den. He promptly emptied the contents of his stomach all over the ground.


	8. Chapter Six

_“Ravenpaw, could you take these herbs to the nursery?” Spottedleaf asked as she handed him a bundle of leaves._

_Ravenpaw nodded and quickly made his way from the medicine den to the nursery across the clearing. He could hear the mewling of newborn kits. Frostfur had a lot of kits to feed, hopefully Spottedleaf gave her something to help her with her milk._

_But as he ducked into the bramble bush, it wasn’t Frostfur who was curled up in the nursery. It was another she-cat. A cat that Ravenpaw didn’t recognize. He could barely see her in the shadows of the bramble tendrils._

_He took a step back. She smelled of ThunderClan. She looked familiar too. Ravenpaw’s brain searched for where he’d seen her before, but he couldn’t quite recall. But he was somehow reassured that he knew her._

_Her eyes lit up when she saw him. The way she looked at him was so powerful and full of love. Ravenpaw felt like he was being dragged into a whirlpool just by her eyes alone. It seemed like she knew him, but Ravenpaw was still struggling to figure out how he knew her._

_“Look at our kits,” the she-cat murmured, her purrs filling the den. “Aren’t they beautiful?”_

_Ravenpaw’s heart started racing. “Our kits?” he repeated, gasping._

_The she-cat nodded. “Our wonderful, wonderful kits,” she mewed. “You’re going to be such a great father.”_

_Ravenpaw felt a tremor ripple through his spine. “I can’t have kits,” he protested, his eyes flickering back and forth, between the she-cat and the kits. “I can’t have a mate. I’m a medicine cat. I’m so sorry. You must be mistaken...”_

_The she-cat shook her head, coaxing him to go closer to her with her tail. “These are your kits,” she said. “There could be no other tom. My heart belongs to you. I love only you.”_

Ravenpaw awoke to the sound of Spottedleaf and Yellowfang fighting again. He blinked blearily as she shook the pounding tension gathering in his forehead. He must’ve fainted after leaving the nursery. He could smell his sick on his chest fur. He grimaced.

 _What was that dream?_ he wondered, dazed. He’d had dreams in the past, of course—chasing mice, sunning on the rocks, play-wrestling with Dustpaw, wandering through the forest... but this dream was different. It was so vivid, so surreal, so... unsettling. Ravenpaw briefly wondered if it was sent to him by StarClan. Had he received his first medicine cat dream? He shuddered. It sure felt like it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a low growl from Spottedleaf. He’d never heard her make that sound before. He snapped his attention to the she-cats in the den.

“He’s _fine_ , it only makes it worse if you treat him differently!”

“He _is_ different, Spottedleaf! Maybe you’d train a regular medicine cat apprentice, who came here on their own accord, the way you’re trying to train him, but he’s not a regular medicine cat apprentice. He’s been guilted into this role by your filthy Clan of gossipers and cold-hearted rule-makers. You wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Ravenpaw has his own free will, thank you very much. He made his own decision to train with me.”

Yellowfang snorted dramatically “I may be old but I’m not blind or deaf! You’d have to be a eyeless mole to not see that his heart still lies with the hunt and the heat of battle. He still wants to be a warrior. And until you change his heart to lie _HERE_ —” Yellowfang slammed her paw into the dirt. “—you won’t get anywhere with him. StarClan can’t send him prophecies if he can’t even open his mind to them. You can’t even get him here to sort herbs if he hates being in this den.”

Ravenpaw could see Spottedleaf staring coldly at Yellowfang. “StarClan will speak to him in their own time,” she mewed.

“And that time is hopefully soon, isn’t it, Spottedleaf?” Yellowfang hissed, her fur puffing up challengingly. “Because you haven’t exactly been hearing from StarClan recently, have you?”

Spottedleaf fell into a sullen silence. She curled her tail over her paws defensively.

“I thought so,” Yellowfang growled, her voice dropping into a low hum that Ravenpaw could barely pick up against the chatter of the birds outside the den. “I could sense you weren’t walking with the stars at the last medicine cat meeting.”

“My dreams are none of your business.” Ravenpaw was shocked to hear Spottedleaf sound so snappy.

“StarClan has cast you out!” Yellowfang snarled. “You have doomed your Clan!”

Spottedleaf suddenly lurched up, swelling to twice her size and unsheathed her claws. “You have done worse!” she mewed angrily. “Both StarClan and ShadowClan have both turned against you. Our ancestors have set a curse upon your Clan with Brokenstar because of your choices. At least I still have my Clan behind me.”

Yellowfang’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You really believe this false peace will last much longer?” she breathed, right into the crook of Spottedleaf’s ear. The tortoiseshell she-cat bristled. “Do you see what you’ve turned a blind eye to?” Ever so carefully, Ravenpaw followed her gaze to the clearing. She was looking at... at Tigerclaw.

Spottedleaf was glaring at Yellowfang like she wanted to tear her pelt off, but there was also a subtle glint of deep shame spreading across her tiny, brindled face.

The older she-cat growled, a low, grumbling sound that chilled Ravenpaw to the bone. “Darkness is coming,” Yellowfang murmured. “StarClan is sending a big storm. It will blow away the good and the bad. You’d better be ready.”

And then, Yellowfang ungraciously shoved Spottedleaf aside and marched purposefully towards the fresh-kill pile to grab a finch. She plopped down with the bird between her paws. She munched on it loudly, her eyes never truly leaving the medicine cat den, challenging Spottedleaf to follow. But she did not. She simply returned to her herb store.

Gulping, Ravenpaw slid into Spottedleaf’s view. The sun was starting to go down, and the sky was turning into a milky pink. The shadows of the fading light danced across Spottedleaf’s face. She looked expressionless, rolling leaves between her paws.

“Hi Spottedleaf,” Ravenpaw said tentatively. “I-I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”

Spottedleaf’s gaze flickered towards him. “Ravenpaw, you’re awake,” she mewed, surprised, her expression suddenly turning sweet again. She padded over to him and pressed against his side reassuringly. Her flank was warm and pleasant in the cool dusk air. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have involved you in the kitting that early in your training. I haven’t been in my right mind lately.”

“That’s okay,” Ravenpaw replied, scuffling his paws in the dirt, feeling an odd mixture of embarrassment and comfort with Spottedleaf’s physical closeness. “I know how that feels like.”

Spottedleaf sighed. “I’m going to take a walk. I’ll be back before nightfall. Give Yellowfang whatever she needs when she comes back, will you?” She gave him a warm lick on the ear before trotting out of the medicine cat den.

Ravenpaw watched as she slowed her pace ever so slightly as she passed Tigerclaw, who was lurking around in the clearing of ThunderClan camp. Ravenpaw might’ve just been imagining it, but he thought he saw them exchange a glance, and the slightest nod. A ripple passed through the two. Ravenpaw instinctively unsheathed his claws. The cold blood in his veins came rushing upward into his heart.

He knew it. The feeling was coming back. Something, _something_ , wasn’t right.

He watched as Spottedleaf disappeared through the brambles surrounding camp, into the darkness. A few heartbeats later, Tigerclaw picked himself up from the clearing, and headed out of camp as well.

Ravenpaw inhaled sharply. His paws took him out of the medicine cat den, and across the clearing. He had to follow them. He didn’t know where he was going, or why he was doing it, or why he didn’t feel _afraid_ , like he usually did, but he was doing it. It was as if another cat had entered his body and was picking up his paws for him. He felt light, and airy, like a bird on powerful winds.

 _I’m going_ , he told himself, calm in a way that he had never experienced before.

A shadow fell in his path. “I wouldn’t,” came Yellowfang’s voice, and the spell was broken. Ravenpaw felt swallowed by the darkness. Night was falling. The first stars glittered coldly from above them. He looked up at her.

“I have to,” Ravenpaw said breathlessly. “You don’t understand...”

Yellowfang shook her head vigorously, and continued to stand in front of him, her giant body blocking his way. “StarClan will reveal the truth in time,” she growled. “There are things that you do not need to know at this moment.”

“What do you mean, Yellowfang?” Ravenpaw asked, hearing his voice growing more powerful and demanding than it had ever been. “Are you talking about Spottedleaf? Or Tigerclaw? Or both?”

“Hush!” Yellowfang hissed as she smacked his muzzle with her paw. It stung. “You’ll wake up your entire Clan, mewling like that. Now put a frog in it, I’m going to sleep. You should too. The full moon is tomorrow and you’ll be going to the Gathering. I suggest you save your energy.”

She left him, shocked, standing in the middle of the camp clearing as the moon began to climb in the sky. Ravenpaw cast his eyes upward, watching the stars glitter down at him. Silently. Did StarClan have their secrets too? he wondered, feeling suddenly very small against a vast spread of ancient warriors, who knew more than he could ever know in his short, insignificant life. 

The night of the Gathering was pleasantly cool. Greenleaf was in full swing, and the days were beginning to get scorching hot. Ravenpaw could often feel his pelt soaked with sweat after even a short walk in the forest, picking herbs with Spottedleaf.

Bluestar had called on the cats to attend the Gathering, and they had congregated underneath the Highrock. The mood was somber. Ravenpaw noticed how Bluestar carefully omitted most of the cats who had a close relation to Redtail. Dustpaw and Sandpaw were not to attend. Graypaw, however, was allowed to go, and he was almost leaping with excitement at the prospect of his first Gathering.

“And they’ll say ‘Graypaw, are you the apprentice of the ThunderClan deputy, Lionheart?’ and I’ll say ‘Yes I am, I’m going to be the most fierce warrior in the forest, so watch out!’ and they’ll look at me in amazement, and—”

“Silence, Graypaw,” Lionheart ordered in his deep, rumbling voice. “A Gathering can be a good place to familiarize yourself with other Clan affairs, but a warrior never reveals too much about his own Clan. Be careful how much you speak, and what you say.”

“It’s almost moonhigh,” Bluestar interrupted, lifting her head and gazing at her assembled warriors. “We’re wasting moonlight. Let’s move quickly. This will be an important Gathering after all that’s happened with WindClan and ShadowClan.”

Bluestar was right, as usual. As Ravenpaw padded alongside Spottedleaf, he noticed the sullen silence between the ThunderClan warriors as they made their way to Fourtrees. Ever since Ravenpaw’s medicine cat apprentice ceremony, Tigerclaw had intentionally put considerable distance between himself and his former apprentice. He hadn’t spoken to Ravenpaw once, to Ravenpaw’s great relief, but often he’d catch the tabby warrior glaring at him from afar, or throwing a jabbing comment his way if he happened to cross his path. It was obvious that Tigerclaw was trying to be civil about the decision, but at the same time Ravenpaw didn’t think that he was letting it go entirely. There was something dark, sinister surrounding him every time Ravenpaw dared to look at him.

The four looming oaks were dark and shadowy against the night sky, with the full moon just peering through the branches. Ravenpaw could smell the scents of many cats mingling in the air. His heart started to race. He never liked crowds, and Gatherings were more of a source of anxiety for him than anything else.

Graypaw squealed like a newborn kit. “You have to introduce me to everyone you know,” he whispered excitedly into Ravenpaw’s ear.

Ravenpaw wanted to tell him that he didn’t know anyone very well. _Maybe I could get Graypaw to introduce me to others,_ he thought. _After all, Graypaw has always been good at making friends..._

The sheer number of cats assembled at the base of Fourtrees always shocked him.

“Wow, I thought ThunderClan was big!” commented Graypaw as his yellow eyes shone, surveying the scene unfolding before them. “I can’t wait to get down there!”

“Patience, Graypaw,” Lionheart mewed, but it was too late. Graypaw had already pelted down the hill and almost bowled into a group of apprentices.

“Watch it!” Ravenpaw heard one of them say. Graypaw ignored her and immediately jumped into a flurry of chatter. Ravenpaw heard Lionheart chuckle beside him.

“ThunderClan is here,” a cat announced from within the assembled crowd. Heads turned to look at them. The cats nodded as they dispersed into the crowd, muttering greetings and asking if prey was plentiful and how their rivers were running.

The ThunderClan cats separated and began to mingle with the others, leaving Ravenpaw alone with his thoughts. He shuffled his paws, wondering where he should go. He decided to trail after Graypaw. He crept up on him entertaining the group of apprentices he had rushed into earlier. Graypaw was sitting next to a pretty silver tabby—Ravenpaw had never seen her before, so he assumed she was a new apprentice—and he was practically smushed up against her. Not that she seemed like she minded, Ravenpaw noticed. She was leaning into Graypaw, blinking up at him like he was the most interesting cat she’d ever met, completely entranced, purring like a maniac. Ravenpaw almost rolled his eyes. He hoped they wouldn’t notice him or try to talk—

“Ravenpaw!” Graypaw mewed excitedly, eyes lighting up as he saw him approach. Ravenpaw cringed. _No, Graypaw, keep talking, don’t pay me no attention_ , he thought, but it was too late. The apprentices swiveled to look at him. “He’s the other ThunderClan apprentice here today! He’s got some _amazing_ battle stories! He was there at the Sunningrocks battle!”

 _Oh StarClan, why did you say that, Graypaw?_ Ravenpaw thought hopelessly. He just flattened his ears and nodded.

“Go on, Ravenpaw; tell us what happened!” called a pretty black-and-white she-cat.

Ravenpaw shyly shuffled his paws and shook his head.

“Come on, Ravenpaw!” insisted another.

“Uh...” Ravenpaw mumbled, his heart beginning to race. “Okay...” He saw Graypaw nod at him eagerly. “Fur was flying everywhere. Blood spattered the leaves of the bramble bushes, bright red against green. I’d just fought off a huge warrior and sent him squealing into the bushes when the ground shook, and I heard a warrior scream. It was Oakheart! Redtail raced past me, his mouth dripping blood and his fur torn. ‘Oakheart is dead!’ he howled. Then he rushed off to help Tigerclaw as he fought another warrior.”

“Wow...” the apprentices gasped, craning their heads forward, awestruck.

The silver tabby apprentice that Graypaw was sitting next to gave Ravenpaw a hard look. Ravenpaw gulped at the intensity of her blue eyes. “Now hang on...” she mewed sharply. “Oakheart’s body was taken back to camp, and Mudfur said he wasn’t killed by a warrior.” She bristled at him. “What were Oakheart’s dying words?” she demanded. Ravenpaw felt his blood freeze.

“I wasn’t there...” Ravenpaw stuttered. “But Redtail... uh...”

“No, no, he must’ve been,” a tiny ShadowClan apprentice, who looked far too young to have been apprenticed, interjected boldly. “I heard Tigerclaw tell the same story earlier, and he said he killed Oakheart!”

“Oakheart has never lost a battle before,” Silverpaw corrected, sniffing in disdain.

“Are you calling Tigerclaw, one of the greatest warriors in the forest, a liar?!” the ShadowClan apprentice exclaimed.

“Are you calling the RiverClan medicine cat a liar?” Silverpaw hissed back, tail lashing.

“Come find out,” the ShadowClan apprentice snarled as he launched himself into her spot next to Graypaw and bowled into the other apprentice. They tumbled across the clearing of Fourtrees in a screeching ball of fur.

“Enough!” a spotted she-cat roared as she bolted between the two apprentices, separating them with a powerful shove of her paws. “Both of you, behave before StarClan covers the moon. _Silverpaw_!” she caterwauled at the RiverClan apprentice. Silverpaw shrank to half her size. “Don’t think because your father is the leader, you can get away with this atrocious behavior. Get back to the group and don’t move a muscle.”

“But—” Silverpaw protested.

“ _Do I need to repeat myself?!”_

“No, sorry Leopardfur!” Silverpaw squeaked. She threw Graypaw an exasperated glance before disappearing into the crowd. The ShadowClan apprentice had already ran away in fear.

“Wow!” Graypaw whispered to Ravenpaw, his fur on end with excitement. “Did you see that?! Did you see _her_?”

“I don’t think anyone could’ve missed that,” Ravenpaw replied, his heart still pounding from the confrontation.

“She’s the most beautiful cat I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Graypaw sighed dreamily. “She’s even better looking than Sandpaw! _And_ Spottedleaf! Combined!” Ravenpaw looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard, but it looked like the rest of the cats were going about their night. “ _And_ she’s the daughter of Crookedstar. _And_ did you see her just take out that ShadowClan apprentice? Wow!”

“To be fair, that apprentice was half her size. Did you even get her name?” Ravenpaw asked.

“Silverpaw, I think?” Graypaw mewed, tilting his head. “Silverpaw...” he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue like honey. Ravenpaw almost snorted. He’d never seen Graypaw this moony over another cat before.

“What is going on here?" came a snarl from behind them. Ravenpaw jumped as he recognized Tigerclaw’s voice. “Did you mousebrains start a fight with the other Clans? There was enough screeching here to scare StarClan out of their slumber.”

“No, the opposite actually, Tigerclaw!” Graypaw mewed as he jumped to attention. “We were telling the apprentices about the battle with Sunningrocks!”

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes, swinging his glare towards Ravenpaw. “You... were telling them... what?” he breathed, unable to contain the rage in his voice. Ravenpaw felt like he was being bowled over by a heavy blow from a pair of sharp, invisible claws. He was almost suffocating from Tigerclaw’s fury. Ravenpaw was sure his heart was going to beat out of his throat. He willed himself not to faint right there and then.

“Tigerclaw,” came Spottedleaf’s sweet mew, swooping in from nowhere, the sound of it alone clearing the dark aura surrounding them. Ravenpaw took a deep breath as the tortoiseshell medicine cat padded next to him and pressed her flank on his. “Thank you for finding my apprentice. I’ve come to collect him.” She nodded to him. “We sit with the other medicine cats,” Spottedleaf murmured into his ear. “You haven’t met them yet. Let’s go see them.”

Ravenpaw nodded, giving Graypaw and his assembled posse of wide-eyed apprentices a relieved glance before following Spottedleaf into the thicket. Tigerclaw’s furious amber eyes never left him, trailing after him as he disappeared into the crowd of cats. Ravenpaw shuddered, unable to get the sensation of Tigerclaw’s hatred off his skin. It was crawling.

The medicine cats were seated at the base of Fourtrees. Ravenpaw saw a small tom huddled near a long-furred brown tom. “Runningnose, Mudfur,” Spottedleaf greeted in succession. Ravenpaw padded after her hesitantly.

“No sign of Barkface?” Mudfur rasped.

Spottedleaf shook her head. “No sign of any WindClan cats,” she murmured. She glanced up at the sky. Clouds were swirling around the full moon. “If Bluestar’s report on WindClan is true, then StarClan will not be happy tonight.”

Runningnose sniffed loudly. “Spottedleaf, who is this with you?” he asked as he looked directly at Ravenpaw.

Ravenpaw felt Spottedleaf’s tailtip rest lightly on his shoulder as she introduced him, “ThunderClan’s new medicine cat apprentice, Ravenpaw.”

Mudfur dipped his head respectfully. “Ravenpaw, I’ve seen you at a Gathering before as a warrior apprentice. May I ask what caused you to change your mind?”

“U-Uh,” Ravenpaw stuttered. He didn’t think any cat would ask him that, which was stupid, because thinking about it now, he should expect _every_ cat to ask him that. “StarClan spoke to me?”

He gave a quick glance at Spottedleaf for her reaction, but her face didn’t betray anything she was thinking, if she was thinking anything at all.

“This must’ve been recent,” Runningnose commented, wiping his nose. “We will see you at the Moonstone at the next half-moon. Congratulations, Ravenpaw.” He leaned down to touch noses with him. Ravenpaw shrank back a bit, eyeing the crust on the ShadowClan medicine cat’s nose warily. Ravenpaw briefly wondered if Runningnose knew about Yellowfang, the previous medicine cat of his Clan. The small gray-and-white tom looked weary, and Ravenpaw could almost see the hollowness in his eyes as he finally touched noses with him.

Mudfur padded over to touch noses with him next. Ravenpaw saw Spottedleaf nod at him approvingly.

“You’re putting us all to shame, Spottedleaf,” Mudfur sighed. “It’s time I start looking for an apprentice as well.”

Spottedleaf purred. “The right cat will come when StarClan wills it.”

Ravenpaw shivered. All this talk of StarClan. Was _he_ the right cat? It was laughable to think that he was chosen by StarClan, or that StarClan had willed his medicine cat apprenticeship. He’d chosen this path out of cowardice. Would he ever let himself live it down? He cast his eyes up at the full moon, still shining brightly above Fourtrees. He couldn’t help but feel like StarClan was anything _but_ on his side.


	9. Chapter Seven

Ravenpaw dreamed about Tigerclaw again that night, but this time his dream was more vivid than ever. The shadows of the night were swallowing him. He could feel Tigerclaw’s movements as braced himself for his approach, he could hear him so loudly in his mind, he could almost smell the musk of his bloody scent as his breath passed by his ear, his teeth snapping right by his whiskers—

Ravenpaw jolted awake, pelt soaked with sweat, heart pounding, but something was telling him it wasn’t just a dream. He scrambled to his paws, his sleepy eyes struggling to focus on what had woken him up. His brain was a torrent of jumbled thoughts. He could scent Yellowfang in the medicine cat den... Spottedleaf was missing! But... there was a third cat in the den... Who was it?

He opened his jaws and scented... _Darkstripe_!

Ravenpaw bristled. What was Darkstripe doing in the medicine cat den? His mind continued to whirl. He was supposed to be guarding Yellowfang, but he’d never tried to enter the medicine cat den before.

After Brokenstar had announced his intent to invade the other territories for hunting rights the previous night, ThunderClan had been on edge. Everyone had been sullen and silent, pelts crackling with tension, nervously eyeing the bramble thorn barrier, as if waiting for a patrol of battle-hungry ShadowClan cats to burst through and start slicing them up. It didn’t help that Brokenstar had openly reported a scroungy “kit-killer” rogue was wandering around after being driven out of ShadowClan. Tigerclaw had arrived back after the Gathering with the murderous intent to drive Yellowfang out that night, or even worse, kill her, but Bluestar had firmly declared that no harm would come to her while she was in their camp. Tigerclaw had the sense to obey his leader, but he wasn’t the only one who was beginning to see Yellowfang as more than just a nuisance.

He forced his pelt to lie flat as he took a cautious step outside of his den. Were the ThunderClan cats getting suspicious of Yellowfang? _But she hasn’t done anything_! Ravenpaw thought in protest. He shook his head. No, he shouldn’t be defensive of the rogue cat. She _was_ an outsider, after all.

He couldn’t help but feel a chill in his spine. What was happening to the forest? A former medicine cat from ShadowClan, exiled from her own Clan, and the entirety of WindClan driven out of their own territory? Brokenstar’s announcement at the Gathering that ShadowClan had single-handedly run the WindClan cats off their territory made every Clan cat’s pelt bristle.

He scanned the clearing. Empty. But Darkstripe’s scent lingered. He had definitely been in the medicine cat den. What was he doing?

Ravenpaw heard Yellowfang snore. He turned his head to look at her. She was sleeping, splayed out, in the shadows of the medicine cat den. How could she so be relaxed around a bunch of cats who were intent on killing her?! Ravenpaw could never understand the grizzled she-cat’s attitude towards life. She must know that hostilities between the Clans were rising. She was a medicine cat! StarClan must be sending her many prophecies about what was happening. Yet she kept quiet.

Ravenpaw settled back in his nest, but he couldn’t shake the feeling from his pelt that he was being watched.

An owl hooted in the distance. Then silence.

Ravenpaw let his thoughts wander. Where was Spottedleaf? She probably just went out to make dirt. He couldn’t help but feel worried for the tiny tortoiseshell she-cat’s safety. Ravenpaw was a pretty scrawny cat himself, but he at least had some warrior training. With Brokenstar’s threats looming in the back of every cat’s mind, he couldn’t believe that she would go out alone. Bluestar was adamant about cats going out in pairs now. Ravenpaw told himself to remind Spottedleaf to wake him up next time she needed to leave the den at night.

He stared at the apprentices’ den across the clearing. He could see Sandpaw's pale ginger coat in the gloom. He wondered how she was doing these days. It seemed as though she’d gotten used to him being a medicine cat apprentice, even though the days of hunting together in the forest were long gone. Ravenpaw had resigned to the fact that things may never be completely normal with any of the apprentices. They were polite to him, but he never felt like they were friendly anymore. As if there was a huge divide between them now that Ravenpaw was a medicine cat apprentice. He hated their stiffness, their shifting eyes, their muffled greetings when he came and passed.

 _I’m still the same cat_! he wanted to wail. He cast his eyes downward. Maybe he shouldn’t be the same cat. All the medicine cats from the other Clans were just like Spottedleaf—they all held themselves with such an air of wisdom and importance. Ravenpaw knew he couldn’t be slinking around in their shadows for the rest of his life. Someday, _he’d_ become medicine cat after Spottedleaf. His whiskers trembled.

Yellowfang’s snores were now deafening. Ravenpaw groaned and curled up by the entrance, trying to shield his ears with his paws. He squeezed his eyes shut. How did he get himself into such a predicament? Absolutely nothing was falling in to place like it should’ve. In fact, he was pretty sure he was even more miserable than before. Before, he at least could curl up with Graypaw, Dustpaw, and Sandpaw in the apprentices’ den after a long day, no matter how awful Tigerclaw had made his training, and know that he would be running through the thick undergrowth of the forest the next morning. His nest was perpetually cold in Spottedleaf’s den, no matter how many feathers he lined it with, and he hated the feeling of being alone, and he especially hated the way the den smelled. With the addition of Yellowfang, he could barely sleep a wink on any given night.

Ravenpaw sighed. The moon peered out from behind a thick expanse of dark gray clouds, and immediately lit the entire camp in a wash of blinding silver.

 _Now this is annoying_ , Ravenpaw thought. He resigned to the fact that it was probably going to be another sleepless night.

In the newly given moonlight, a movement from across the clearing caught his eye. He watched as a shape emerged from the camp entrance. It was Spottedleaf, with her distinctive dappled coat, floating towards the den. She was always silent, always so careful. Ravenpaw pretended to be asleep when she entered the den. He felt her settle next to him in his nest, her petite body curling into his, suddenly filling the space with warmth and... and...

Ravenpaw gagged, swallowing hard to stop himself from getting sick.

 _...and Tigerclaw’s scent_.

He hoped she couldn’t tell that his fur was bristling like a hedgehog’s. _Maybe he was just making sure she was safe,_ he tried to convince himself, but to no avail. He knew that there couldn’t be a good reason that Tigerclaw was awake and wandering the forest in the middle of the night.

“Where did you go?” Ravenpaw whispered. He felt Spottedleaf freeze against him. There was a tense silence.

“Oh, did I wake you? I’m sorry,” Spottedleaf murmured quietly, her voice sweet and lilting. “I was just going out to make dirt.”

“Darkstripe was here,” Ravenpaw mewed.

Spottedleaf blinked. He could see her eyelids flutter in the dark.

“Can’t you scent him?” Ravenpaw pressed.

Spottedleaf nodded slightly. “Yes, and what did he want?” Her voice had lost its sweetness.

“I don’t know,” Ravenpaw said. “I was asleep, but I woke up when I heard him come in. He just left right afterwards.”

“Odd,” Spottedleaf commented. “Maybe a case of the night-walks.”

“I,” Ravenpaw began, “I-I think he might’ve been looking for Yellowfang.” He swallowed hard. “I know that he’s supposed to be guarding her, but he’s never come into the den before. Spottedleaf... I don’t think a lot of ThunderClan cats want her around after what Brokenstar said at the Gathering.”

Spottedleaf lashed her tail. She raised her head and looked out of the den, across the clearing and at the warriors’ den. She seemed lost in thought for a heartbeat.

“You don’t think he was trying to kill her, were you?” Ravenpaw mewed quietly.

Spottedleaf’s whiskers twitched. “I’m not sure, Ravenpaw,” she replied sincerely. “It could be very possible. But I will speak to Bluestar about keeping the prisoner’s guards out of my den first thing tomorrow. Either way, he should not be in here.”

Then she settled back in her nest and went to sleep. Ravenpaw went to do the same. He paused. He noticed that Yellowfang’s snores had stopped all of a sudden. A cold shiver went down his spine. Did they wake her up? Was she awake the whole time? Had she heard what they were saying?

He glanced over at her. He must’ve imagined it, but he thought he saw a pair of amber eyes glowering at him for a heartbeat before her snores filled the den once again.

The next morning, Spottedleaf made her way to Bluestar’s den. Ravenpaw trailed behind, ears pricked curiously. He could only hear muffled bits of their conversation floating through the crack in the rocks. _Darkstripe... medicine cat den... new guard... Tigerclaw..._

Tigerclaw? Ravenpaw unsheathed his claws. He watched as Spottedleaf and Bluestar appeared from the den, now chatting pleasantly about the weather and how prey was running. He caught Spottedleaf’s gaze, and he supposed he looked desperate enough for Spottedleaf to excuse herself and leave the conversation.

“Ravenpaw,” Spottedleaf mewed as she padded up to him.

“What did Bluestar say?” Ravenpaw asked.

Spottedleaf flicked her ears. “Bluestar concluded that Darkstripe deserved a break and she switched out Yellowfang’s guard. Tigerclaw will be taking over Darkstripe’s post,” she told him.

Ravenpaw could feel his legs shaking. “Shouldn’t Tigerclaw be doing more important things?” he asked, trying not to sound weak and whimpering.

Spottedleaf purred in amusement, although Ravenpaw saw nothing funny about the situation. “Tigerclaw wouldn’t lay a claw on Yellowfang,” she said gently. “He respects Bluestar and the warrior code, even if he may personally disagree with the decision.”

Ravenpaw stared hard at Spottedleaf. She was looking affectionately at Tigerclaw, who was sharing tongues with Longtail and Goldenflower across the clearing. He swallowed. A few moons ago, he would’ve wholeheartedly agreed with her statement. But now, he wasn’t so sure. The only thing that Ravenpaw knew for sure was that Tigerclaw had sunk his deadly claws in Redtail’s throat all those moons ago. Tigerclaw had killed Redtail in hopes of Bluestar naming him the next deputy. But she hadn’t. She’d picked Lionheart.

Ravenpaw’s gaze traveled to the golden tom sitting by Highrock. Lionheart was giving himself a quick wash, seemingly ignorant of the power struggle going on around him. Ravenpaw wondered how much he knew. He was the deputy—he had to know something...right?

“Brindleface is expecting kits,” Spottedleaf announced, interrupting his thoughts.

Ravenpaw blinked. “Who’s the father?” he asked.

Spottedleaf flicked her ear. “She hasn’t told me,” she replied.

Ravenpaw didn’t know why, but that phrase made him dig his claws into the soft earth of the camp ground. So many secrets. So many hidden truths. Why couldn’t Brindleface just tell Spottedleaf who had fathered her kits? It wasn’t as if she’d taken a ShadowClan warrior as a mate! Wait... well... maybe that was the reason why?

Ravenpaw shook his head. He was in over his head. He was starting to get paranoid about everything. Brindleface would tell everyone in her own time. There was no use in suspecting her, just like there was no use in suspecting Darkstripe, or Yellowfang, or Spottedleaf, or Lionheart, or Bluestar...

 _Stop it_! Ravenpaw scolded himself. He took a deep breath.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something move. He looked over to see Tigerclaw pausing to stare at him for a heartbeat. The tabby tom’s muzzle was turned upward in a sneer. He was making that expression right at him. Ravenpaw felt sick. Could he sense his unease? The thought alone made him feel even sicker.

“Let’s go see her,” Spottedleaf said. “It’ll be good for you to learn how to do a checkup of an expecting queen. There are many things you need to know about taking care of kits.”

Ravenpaw swished his tail. He’d almost forgotten that he was still a medicine cat apprentice. He followed Spottedleaf warily to the nursery.

He heard a familiar voice as he approached—Sandpaw. She was speaking loudly from the nursery. Ravenpaw felt his breath catch in his throat as his ears picked up on the argumentative tones in her voice. Who was she fighting with?

“Be glad I’m your only kit, because if you had three more like Frostfur did, you’d be hearing an earful from all four of us! Oh wait,” Sandpaw snarled, “looks like I’m not your only kit anymore.”

“Sandpaw, please.” It was Brindleface’s voice responding to her accusations. The queen sounded helpless. “We can’t mourn Redtail forever. Life goes on in ThunderClan.”

Sandpaw let out a snort that Ravenpaw was all too familiar with. “Is your idea of ‘life going on’ betraying your mate’s memory by taking another one like some kittypet that’s been locked up in a Twoleg box for too long—”

Spottedleaf rustled the brambles, signaling their approach.

Sandpaw stopped abruptly, then leaned down suddenly to hiss at Brindleface, who was resting in the shadows of the den. “Who is he?”

“You’re growing too big for your own pelt,” Brindleface finally snapped back. Ravenpaw could begin to see where Sandpaw’s fiery nature came from. “You could be cleaning out the elder’s den for a moon if I report this insolence to Bluestar.”

Sandpaw growled loudly. “Try me,” she demanded as she whisked around to blow past Spottedleaf and Ravenpaw, tearing out part of the den on her way out. “This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been squashed under the foot like a bug. These kits are cursed!”

“Sandpaw—” Ravenpaw began as the ginger she-cat swept by.

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Sandpaw snarled, and disappeared into the apprentices’ den. Ravenpaw saw Dustpaw sitting by the entrance, fur ruffled in surprise, as Sandpaw stormed by. He watched his brother dash after her, picking up faint bits of his comforting meow as he, no doubt, attempted to calm the angry apprentice.

Brindleface buried her head in her paws for a heartbeat, then greeted the medicine cats with a warm hello.

“I apologize for my daughter’s behavior,” the gray tabby she-cat murmured, her eyes glazed with sudden exhaustion. “She’s almost old enough to be a warrior—yet she still acts like a whiny little kit. I hope she grows out of it soon.” She chuckled. “Even I’m at the end of my wits with her.”

“Apprentices will be apprentices,” Spottedleaf agreed as she moved forward to press her paws on Brindleface’s belly. Ravenpaw squinted. It didn’t even look like she had kits in there yet.

Spottedleaf must’ve caught on to what Ravenpaw was thinking. She beckoned him to join her with her tail. “Come put your paws on her belly, Ravenpaw,” Spottedleaf ordered.

Ravenpaw hesitated. Put his paws on an expectant queen’s belly? Somehow that felt wrong. He shook the anxiety out of his pelt and padded forward, doing what he was told.

“Do you feel how it’s firming up?” Spottedleaf asked. “It’s not squishy like our bellies anymore. Soon we’ll be able to feel the kits in there, and we’ll be able to know how many Brindleface is having.” The tortoiseshell she-cat nodded at the queen. “You’re doing fine. Take it easy, eat plenty of prey, and I’ll be back in a quarter-moon to see how you’re doing.”

“Of course, thank you as always, Spottedleaf,” Brindleface replied. “You’re such a gifted medicine cat, the Clan is lucky to have you serving us.”

Spottedleaf dipped her head in gratitude. “I must return to tending my herb store,” she mewed, “Ravenpaw will be made a medicine cat apprentice at Mothermouth tomorrow night, and we still need to organize traveling herbs,” and left Ravenpaw in the nursery alone with Brindleface.

Ravenpaw felt awkward. He figured he should leave the queen in peace. But before he could turn around and exit the den, he heard Brindleface sigh deeply. “How’s your training going, Ravenpaw?” came a kind mew from her. Ravenpaw flicked his ears, surprised that she was speaking to him directly. He turned to blink at her.

“Well,” he said cautiously. Was he doing well? He thought he was doing alright at least.

Brindleface closed her eyes momentarily, nodding at him. “Has StarClan visited you?” she asked after opening them once again.

Ravenpaw swallowed. “No,” he confessed. “Sh-should they have...?”

Brindleface let out a soft purr, shaking her head. “No Ravenpaw,” she replied, “I suppose it’s wrong of me to ask such a personal question. Medicine cat affairs and all.” She sighed again. Ravenpaw’s whiskers twitched. She sounded so... down. “I only ask because I want to know if Redtail made it to StarClan or not.”

Ravenpaw’s ears pricked. “Of course he would have,” he responded confidently. “StarClan would’ve welcomed him with open paws. He was a brave and noble deputy.”

Brindleface’s green eyes flooded with grief. “I hope he doesn’t resent me for taking another mate,” she mewed softly. “If he’s up there, watching... oh, what would he think?” She dug her claws into the soft earth of the nursery floor. “He was always such a cat of the code. If I’d died before his time was up, he would’ve never taken another mate. Never, til the day StarClan came to retrieve him.” Her tailtip twitched. “I know he’s hunting in Silverpelt now, but I can’t help but feel so... guilty.” Brindleface finished with a small shake of her head. “Like I’m not living up to his memory. Like I’m doing him a disservice.”

Another brief silence passed them.

“I guess you want to know who the father is, huh,” Brindleface murmured.

Ravenpaw shook his head frantically. “Oh no, Brindleface,” he squeaked. “That’s your business! I don’t mean to intrude or sound like I’m being nosy, not at all...”

Brindleface’s green eyes shone with amusement and appreciation. “Of course I don’t think you’re being nosy,” she purred. “But I know you’re curious, like every young cat ought to be.”

Ravenpaw let out of a nervous huff. “You don’t have to tell me,” he insisted, but Brindleface wasn’t listening. The queen went on, “It’s Whitestorm,” she confessed, looking more ashamed than anything. “Oh, Ravenpaw, I was grieving.” She sounded distressed. “And Whitestorm was a perfect Clanmate in every way, he always made sure I had prey to eat and comfortable bedding in my nest after we buried Redtail. I knew he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart, and I’m forever grateful. But I was weak.” Ravenpaw stood in the corner, frozen and unable to move. What was he supposed to do? She was telling him too much! “I wasn't thinking clearly with the loss of my dear Redtail. We made a mistake. I know he thinks it was a mistake, too. We don’t love each other, and so soon after Redtail’s departure... I know no cat feels guiltier than he does. Whitestorm had always respected Redtail so much.” Ravenpaw felt his body tensing. “These kits are cursed by Redtail himself.” Brindleface was clearly distraught. Ravenpaw’s chest tightened.

“Oh... don’t listen to Sandpaw,” Ravenpaw said, but he couldn’t help but feel a cold chill creeping into his pelt as Brindleface’s words dug deep into his skin. “It’s... It’s hard. To honor a dead cat.” He swallowed. He didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. “I mean, to honor what you think a... a... Redtail would’ve wanted. I-I mean... Whitestorm, he’s a great warrior, but even he couldn’t know everything. A-As you said, life goes on, and unexpected things happen. You want to do one thing but it just... it just doesn’t end up happening sometimes. You know?”

“I know,” Brindleface responded, pawing at a nearby mossball despondently. “But you’re right. I should just focus on having the healthiest and happiest kits for ThunderClan.” She purred affectionately at Ravenpaw. “Spottedleaf is really rubbing off on you. I’m glad you’re so empathetic. Thank you for understanding.”

 _You have no idea_ , Ravenpaw thought in despair.   
  



	10. Chapter Eight

The traveling herbs were thick and bitter on Ravenpaw’s tongue. He grimaced. Spottedleaf had made him prepare his own, for practice, and Ravenpaw was slightly convinced that he’d gotten _something_ wrong, because he never thought they would taste _that_ bad.

The last rays of the sun disappeared behind the forest canopy, tinting the sky a deep purple. The first stars started to appear. Ravenpaw watched as Spottedleaf licked her muzzle, showing no signs of tasting the repulsive mix. Will he eventually get used to eating herbs? Ravenpaw shuddered at the thought.

The glow of the half-moon illuminated ThunderClan’s camp. “Let’s go,” Spottedleaf said to him. Ravenpaw nodded warily as he set out after his mentor. They passed Bluestar, who was just coming back from the evening patrol with a plump vole in her mouth. She nodded at him. “Good luck,” she mewed with the prey in her mouth. “May StarClan light your path.”

For the most part, Ravenpaw and Spottedleaf traveled in silence. Ravenpaw could hear the night animals waking up in their burrows, their scratching and shuffling noises making his mouth water. His paws itched to hunt, to pounce on a warm body, and eat his own fresh-kill. He hadn’t hunted in what seemed like ages.

His eyes locked on a rat that had scuttled out of its burrow, a few foxlengths in front of them. “Hang on,” he whispered to Spottedleaf, unsheathing his claws and wiggling his back, crouching down onto the leaf-littered ground.

“We don’t have time to hunt, Ravenpaw,” Spottedleaf said to him, “that’s what the traveling herbs are for.”

Ravenpaw sighed and stood back up, disappointed. “Alright,” he conceded, and the two medicine cats continued to pad through the forest, their paws quietly rustling the leaves and dried bracken beneath them.

They left the forest where the ground sloped towards Fourtrees. The wind blew through the clearing, shaking the great branches of the trees, rustling loudly. Ravenpaw stared at the moon peeking through the leaves, casting a dappled silver pattern on everything underneath.

Ravenpaw and Spottedleaf headed towards WindClan territory. Ravenpaw could see where the undergrowth started to disappear and where the open moors appeared. It looked like a silver wash of nothingness in the darkness of the night. He shivered. WindClan’s scent was stale. The pungent scent of ShadowClan markers overwhelmed his senses.

“Do you think StarClan approves of ShadowClan’s actions?” Ravenpaw asked timidly as they passed through the hollow, empty moors.

Spottedleaf shook her head. “Not even the greatest medicine cat truly knows what StarClan has planned,” she replied. “We cannot pretend to know their intentions. Perhaps they have something for us, and we just haven’t discovered it yet.”

Something about her statement made Ravenpaw flatten his ears in fear. Not know what StarClan has planned? Was the life of a medicine cat just a life of uncertainty? He was more spooked by her words than he had any right to be. StarClan was good. They had to do _something_ about WindClan being driven out... right?

“Do you think there will be ShadowClan cats?” Ravenpaw whispered to Spottedleaf. “Here?”

“I hope not,” Spottedleaf replied. “I can’t imagine any of them would want to be out on the moors at night, with all these owls swooping around.”

Ravenpaw got his first glimpse of the Highstones as they neared the ridge of WindClan territory that overlooked it. His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to take in the sight before him. He’d never seen something so vast. The rocks sprawled on forever and ever along the horizon, its dark stone glittering in the cold moonlight. They were bigger than Fourtrees! His heart raced at the thought of approaching them.

“Hello!” came a far-away cry. Ravenpaw turned to see Mudfur and Runningnose padding up the slope behind them, their outlines illuminated in the moonlight. Spottedleaf nodded to them as they joined the ThunderClan cats. “Right on time,” she said.

Runningnose paused. “I know it’s silly,” he began, “but should we wait for Barkface?”

Spottedleaf and Mudfur bowed their heads. “I don’t believe he will come tonight,” Spottedleaf said quietly.

Runningnose nodded. “You’re right. May StarClan guide him, wherever he and the rest of WindClan are.”

“How do you feel, Ravenpaw?” Mudfur asked, changing the subject.

Ravenpaw blinked at the brown medicine cat. “Nervous,” he admitted quietly.

“Of course you are,” Mudfur purred. “We all were nervous for our ceremonies as well. But you’re excited too, right?”

Ravenpaw nodded bleakly.

The descended the hill. The ground became rocky and littered with stones as they neared the Highstones.

“Mothermouth,” Runningnose rasped as Ravenpaw eyed a huge, yawning black hole at the side of the mountains.

“We go in there?” Ravenpaw asked breathlessly, feeling his fur prickle with fear.

Spottedleaf nodded. “The Moonstone awaits.”

Ravenpaw dug his claws into the soft, earthy soil underneath him. The sensation was strange. It didn’t feel like any terrain he’d ever felt in ThunderClan. He took one last glance at the sparse patches of heather growing along the rock before padding into the square entrance of Mothermouth, following the older cats in front of him.

The darkness swallowed him like a hungry snake. Ravenpaw was completely blind. There was no light. His eyes strained to see something, anything, but all he could sense was the sound of pawsteps. He followed with his head down, afraid he would crash into something, but he never did. The darkness seemed to go on forever and ever. He could hear the low moaning, a hollow sound, and a warm wind rushing through his pelt as they descended deeper and deeper into the stony cave.

“Spottedleaf?” Ravenpaw breathed.

“We’re nearly there,” Spottedleaf said soothingly. “Only a few more pawsteps. Soon you will remember this path like the back of your paw.”

Ravenpaw couldn’t imagine entering this place again, much less every half-moon. He could feel his pelt bristling in terror. He probably looked like a hedgehog at how spiked up his fur was. He was half glad that there was no light, so the other cats couldn’t see how scared he was.

Ravenpaw heard the pawsteps stop. He halted. It was still dark, the air suddenly cold. He let out a soft growl at the back of his throat, and heard the sound echo above his head. The space became bigger, wider, and he could hear the faint drip, drip, drip of water somewhere around them.

“What—” Ravenpaw begin, but stopped short as a ray of blinding moonlight filtered in through a crack in the roof. The cavern lit up immediately, and Ravenpaw could see a huge, glittering white rock in the middle of where they stood.

Before Ravenpaw could even speak, Spottedleaf stepped up to the shining stone and turned to face him. Her fur was almost white in the light that touched every cat’s pelt in a strange, otherworldly aura.

“Ravenpaw, do you wish to seek the path of a medicine cat?” her voice echoed.

Ravenpaw could only nod. Any words he may have had were stuck in the back of his throat.

Spottedleaf beckoned with her bushy tail. “Come forward.”

Ravenpaw cautiously took a step forward. Then another. Then another. The light of the Moonstone grew brighter and brighter as he drew closer. He squinted as the light started to blind him.

“StarClan, I present to you this apprentice,” Spottedleaf continued. “He has chosen to serve ThunderClan as a medicine cat. Grant him your spirit, guidance, and insight so he may understand your ways and heal the Clan in accordance to your will.”

Her last words echoed off the walls, and there was a moment of silence as the medicine cats bowed their heads. Ravenpaw glanced around nervously. What was he supposed to do? He looked at Spottedleaf expectantly.

“Touch your nose to the stone,” she meowed softly at him, nodded in encouragement.

Ravenpaw gulped and stepped forward until he could feel his whiskers brush the cratered surface of the rock in front of him. His belly twisted in anticipation. Was he going to meet StarClan cats? What would he say when he finally saw them? What if they didn’t like him?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other medicine cats step forward and touch their noses to the Moonstone. Squeezing his eyes shut, he did the same. The shock of the cold stone rippled through his body, and then there was blackness.

Ravenpaw was acutely aware of his heartbeat thundering in his ears. There was nothingness around him, not a sound, no scents, nothing prickling his fur. He felt almost weightless.

Something tickled as his paws. His eyes flew open. It still looked like he was in the Moonstone cave—no. Ravenpaw inhaled sharply as he noticed water lapping at his paws. It was shallow, as if he was standing at the shoreline of the river. He padded forward a few steps, seeing if he could find land anywhere nearby. He couldn’t see anything except for a dim light along what he supposed was the horizon.

He saw a shape move in the darkness. His heart jumped. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus in on what was in front of him. It was a tree branch, he discovered as the thing moved closer. It was a large branch floating on the water, drifting lazily on the current. Now he could hear the waves of the water roaring in the distance, the sound slowly droning in and out of his senses.

The branch was floating closer and closer towards him. Ravenpaw took a cautious step backwards.

The sky was beginning to brighten, casting the unfamiliar in a harsh, unnatural light. Ravenpaw could finally see around him. He was standing in black water that went on and on and on, as far as the eye could see. There was only the black sky, the black water, and the branch... and something else?!

Ravenpaw gasped audibly as he finally noticed what was sitting on top of the floating branch. It was a massive black bird—a raven. He’d seen a few of these birds in his lifetime, but never one as big as the on in front of him. It was positively huge, with glossy blue-black feathers and a pair of shiny, beady eyes. It stared right at him as it ruffled its feathers, shifting its weight on the branch.

It seemed like an eternity of the cat and the bird staring at each other before Ravenpaw blinked. The raven blinked back.

“Heed the warning cry of the raven.”

Ravenpaw lashed his tail, his whiskers quivering in disbelief. Had he heard right just then? “Who said that?” he asked timidly.

The raven blinked, and stared at him purposefully. It let out a harsh _caw_. “Heed the warning cry of the raven.”

So he wasn’t crazy. The raven had actually talked. And Ravenpaw understood him. This must be the work of StarClan. Ravenpaw was trembling. What was he supposed to do? “What does that mean?” He felt silly asking a question to a raven, but if it had spoken to him, maybe it’ll reply...

The raven lifted its huge black wings and took off into the sky. “No, w-wait,” Ravenpaw stuttered, beginning to panic. Had he scared it off? “Come back!” he yowled, splashing through the water in an attempt to chase it down. But the raven had soared out of sight, its shiny feathers becoming a dot in the sky. Ravenpaw slowed his pace, panting, looking up wildly in an attempt to catch sight of the raven.

He saw something glimmer above him. Then a blinding flash of light filled the sky, causing Ravenpaw to hurtle backwards, eyes stinging painfully. Ears flattened, he tried to make out what had happened. His eyes widened as he saw the piercing white light transform into a huge pair of gleaming amber eyes, floating, disembodied, in the sky. The ground around him began to shake. He could feel a powerful current roaring around his paws as the water began to churn and swirl. The water level was rising.

The roaring of the earth and the water took over Ravenpaw’s senses as he attempted to run. He could barely move, feeling the water gripping onto his fur like a pair of sharp claws, dragging him under. He coughed as the water filled his mouth, and he could taste it. It had a salty, mineral taste that reminded Ravenpaw of blood.

“Heed the warning cry of the raven.” A booming voice, masked under an ear-deafening screech, was the last thing he heard before his head went under.

Ravenpaw woke up yowling, paws churning furiously, in a cold sweat. He leaped to his paws, fur on end, gasping and panting, feeling his heart racing as if he’d just been in the heat of battle.

“Ravenpaw!” he heard Spottedleaf’s voice next to him. Her sweet scent flooded his senses as he felt her press her warm body next to his. Breathing hard, he buried his face in her neck fur, trying to calm the painful hammering of his heartbeat. He could see a faint light illuminating her concerned face. They were still in the Moonstone cavern, but from the light, he could tell it was daytime. How long had he been asleep? Where were the other medicine cats? They must’ve gone. For a brief heartbeat he felt guilty for having Spottedleaf stay with him for so long.

He felt Spottedleaf’s tongue lap at his ears comfortingly. “StarClan, that must’ve been quite a dream,” she murmured. “Poor thing. Let’s go outside and get out of the dark.”

Stumbling with only Spottedleaf to guide him, Ravenpaw hobbled out of Mothermouth, drenched in sweat, eyes still filled with the wild light of his terrifying vision. He could see the heather growing on the rock, now swaying gently in the morning wind. The sun was bleak and soft behind the dawn clouds, bathing everything in a rosy glow.

Ravenpaw collapsed in a patch of grass after they’d made it a few foxlengths out of the cave. He wanted to sleep for a moon, even though he’d just woken up. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. He felt like he was being squeezed by a giant pair of claws.

Spottedleaf looked around. “It doesn’t seem like there’s any thyme growing around here,” she said, shaking her head. “Can you walk?”

Ravenpaw struggled to his paws. They felt like twigs. Shaking, he nodded. He leaned on Spottedleaf as they made their way slowly back up the ridge, towards WindClan territory.

They walked in silence until Spottedleaf broke it with the question that Ravenpaw had been expecting. “What did StarClan show you?”

Ravenpaw hesitated. Should he tell her? That was a silly question. Of course. She was his superior, and she was a medicine cat. It wasn’t as if he could interpret the prophecy himself...

“I was standing in an endless pool of water,” Ravenpaw began, shivering at the memory of the sensation. “A branch floated towards me, and a raven was sitting on top of it. It could speak like a cat. It told me to ‘heed the warning cry of the raven’.”

Spottedleaf had slowed her pace to an abrupt halt. “Spottedleaf?” Ravenpaw asked timidly, staring at her anxiously.

The tortoiseshell she-cat’s fur was bristling ever so slightly. Her amber eyes had glazed over with a haunted look. Then she blinked, her whiskers quivering. “I received the same prophecy,” she murmured. “Many, many moons ago.” She stared at her creamy, white paws. “It was the night that the battle of Sunningrocks took place. The night of Redtail’s death. I received this omen as I was speaking to Bluestar.” She sighed heavily. “It was my first sign from StarClan in a long time. I knew it had to be the most important prophecy that I would ever receive.”

Ravenpaw could feel his legs shaking. “What does it mean?” he dared to ask.

Spottedleaf gazed at him, her brow furrowed. “I have no idea,” she replied. “But it is significant that StarClan has sent the vision to both you and me. You must help me, Ravenpaw.” Her voice suddenly held a tone of urgency. “Is there anything you may know that might relate to what you saw at the Moonstone? Think hard.”

“Uh...” Ravenpaw stammered. Think hard. He couldn’t. His brain was slush. _Heed the warning cry of the raven..._ How could he possibly know what means? He hadn’t been talking to any ravens lately, if that’s what Spottedleaf meant. “No,” he mewed finally. "I... I don’t think I remember anything about ravens.”

Spottedleaf’s whiskers twitched in amusement. “You can’t think of it too literally,” she mewed softly. “StarClan’s messages are never usually clear as day. You have to look behind the clouds to see the moon.” She glanced off into the distance at WindClan’s empty territory. “We should try to get to a safe place to rest and hunt.”

Ravenpaw shuddered. “Are you sure there aren’t any ShadowClan warriors around here?” he asked nervously, his eyes darting back and forth between the gently swaying grasses of the moorland and the ShadowClan border that lay beyond.

“I can’t be sure,” Spottedleaf admitted. “That’s why we should get out of the open as soon as we possibly can. Come on.” She leaned up against him, letting some of his weight fall onto her. Ravenpaw was briefly thankful that he wasn’t a heavy cat.

As they were making their way through the moors, Ravenpaw couldn’t help but think about what he’d seen at the Moonstone. His pelt prickled. Spottedleaf seemed to think Ravenpaw held the answers. Could the prophecy be about... him? He felt more lost than ever. _I should feel proud that I’d received a real vision from StarClan_ , he thought hopelessly, _but that means they trust me with something. Something big. Oh StarClan, how could I ever deliver_?

As Ravenpaw was fretting over his dream, he almost didn’t notice Spottedleaf had stopped abruptly next to him. Her pelt was bristling. He looked up in alarm, and suddenly noticed the scent of an unfamiliar cat nearby. His claws unsheathed instinctively as he saw something rustle in the grass.

A black-and-white head popped up a few foxlengths away from them. “Hello!” the unfamiliar tomcat mewed cheerily.

Ravenpaw sniffed suspiciously, but let his muscles relax. The tom didn’t smell like any Clan cat he knew of. As the cat drew closer, Ravenpaw could see a portly belly hanging below him. He looked sleek and well-fed.

“Barley!” Spottedleaf breathed in relief. “Ravenpaw, meet Barley.” She nodded at the black-and-white tom. “He’s a loner who lives in a barn nearby. He’s a good friend to the Clans. We always stay in his barn for some rest and good hunting when traveling to the Moonstone.” She lifted her head.

“I saw a few of your friends come this way earlier,” Barley said. He was looking intently at Ravenpaw. “They said that you had important business up in those mountains.” He stretched, flexing his back. “I couldn’t imagine going into a dark cave for any reason!”

“Business as usual,” Spottedleaf replied briskly. “But we’re tired, especially this one here, Ravenpaw.” She nudged him affectionately.

“Ravenpaw,” Barley mewed, nodding respectfully at him. “I knew you were a new face around here. Nice to meet you.”

Ravenpaw could only swallow and nod.

“I think some rest and a few mice would give him enough strength to travel back to ThunderClan territory,” Spottedleaf continued. “Barley, would you spare a few nests in your barn, just for a little bit?”

“Anything for you, Spottedleaf,” Barley replied, turning to lead them across the field. Ravenpaw could see a row of wooden fences in the distance. “Come this way. Hurry, I think there’s bound to be some rain soon. We wouldn’t want either of you caught in the storm, now would we?”


	11. Chapter Nine

"Sorry, the roof has a leak," Barley meowed apologetically as they entered the barn. The temperature on the moor had suddenly dropped, leaving Ravenpaw a shivering mess. He collapsed on a nearby hay bale as soon as they entered the structure. He barely even noticed the leak that Barley was talking about, but as he swiveled his ears he could hear the faint dripping of water from above nearby. He was too exhausted to care.

“Feel free to catch whatever you’d like,” Barley said, giving his paws a lick. “There’s more than enough to go around.”

Spottedleaf nodded, and then padded into the shadows of the barn, her unsheathed claws clacking on the hard wooden ground.

Ravenpaw lifted his head, hoping this meant that Spottedleaf was going to catch something for him. She seemed to have read his mind, and slipped away to look for prey.

“Want me to catch something for you?” Barley asked. Ravenpaw blinked at him, surprised. Barley must’ve caught his look of bewilderment, as he let out a friendly purr. “I can hunt, you know.” His whiskers twitched in amusement. “Just because I’m no warrior doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself!” When Ravenpaw still didn’t respond, Barley continued, “It looks like you’re a little tongue-tied there, I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll be right back with some mice. The barn’s been swarming with them lately...” The black and white tom bounded away, his hefty paws hitting the wooden floors with heavy thuds.

Spottedleaf returned with a plump mouse in her jaws. She nodded at him as she laid the prey on the ground. “Eat up,” she mewed softly.

Just as Ravenpaw leaned down to take a bite, his mouth watering at its delicious scent, Barley reappeared with another mouse.

“Oh,” he said as he dropped it at his paws. “The medicine cat beat me to it.” He stretched. “Well, I suppose you forest cats are quick on their paws like they say.”

“Like who say, Barley?” Spottedleaf asked teasingly.

Barley shook his head. “Like all the non Clan-cats, Spottedleaf,” he replied in the same teasing tone.

“Oh,” Spottedleaf sighed in response. “I bet you get together once a moon to gossip about all the terrible things we do.”

“Twice a moon, actually,” Barley corrected, grinning, showing his shiny, sharp teeth. He turned his attention back to Ravenpaw. “Ravenpaw, consider my prey a welcoming gift to my barn. And to celebrate your proper medicine cat apprentice ceremony.” He nodded at Spottedleaf as he slid his mouse towards Ravenpaw. “Spottedleaf, go ahead and eat the prey you caught. You both must be hungry.

Spottedleaf shook her head. “Barley, we can’t possibly have you feed us when you’re already giving us the shelter of your barn,” she insisted, her purr turning into silk. “You eat your catch, I’m quick on my paws as you say, I can catch another mouse easily. Ravenpaw is weak from the travel.” She looked at Ravenpaw. “Go on and eat the mouse I caught, Ravenpaw,” she told him. “We have to be respectful guests in Barley’s home.”

Ravenpaw blinked, dazed at the two cats competing for his attention. He looked from Barley’s mouse to Spottedleaf’s mouse, then back to Barley, then back to Spottedleaf, then back the mice. He gulped.

Outside, there was a low rumble of thunder.

“I...” he began. “I-I’ll just eat both, I’m sorry, I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings—”

“No,” Barley insisted, his suddenly aggressive hiss making Ravenpaw jump. He pushed his mouse towards him, hard. “Please. I insist.”

“Ravenpaw,” Spottedleaf meowed sternly, her amber eyes narrowing to slits. “Make ThunderClan proud.”

Spottedleaf’s last words made Ravenpaw shiver. _Make ThunderClan proud_. Of course he wanted to make his Clan proud. Sandpaw, Bluestar, Tigerclaw, Dustpaw... and even Yellowfang, who wasn’t technically part of ThunderClan. And most of all, he wanted to make Spottedleaf proud.

Slowly, Ravenpaw pushed away Barley’s mouse. “I’m sorry,” he mewed, not daring to meet the black-and-white tom’s eyes. “I appreciate your generosity, but Spottedleaf’s right. You should eat your catch. We Clan cats can hunt for ourselves.”

He heard Spottedleaf trill happily beside him. “That’s a ThunderClan cat, through and through,” she meowed. “I’m going to be catching some more prey for myself, Barley. Enjoy your fresh-kill.” She bounded away in a few swift motions.

Ravenpaw’s heart sang with relief as he leaned down to take a bite of the prey. He hadn’t even noticed how starved he was until his mouth was full. The warm mouse tasted better than anything he’d ever had. When was the last time he ate? Two days ago? Ravenpaw couldn’t believe he was still standing.

As he devoured the fresh-kill, he couldn’t help but notice an uncomfortable silence prickling between him and Barley. The once friendly tom had gone silent. Stony, cold silence. He could feel Barley’s eyes burning into his fur. He raised his head to meet them. His stare almost knocked Ravenpaw backwards.

“Please don’t be angry,” Ravenpaw stuttered.

Barley shook his head. “I’m not,” was all he said, but Ravenpaw could see his tail lashing.

“Not... angry? Or... not...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Barley said firmly. His gaze softened as his eyes caught onto Ravenpaw’s terrified expression. “I won’t hold a grudge about a stupid mouse. Believe me.”

Ravenpaw swallowed and nodded. He opened his mouth to reply, but ended up stifling a huge yawn. His eyelids felt heavy. “I’m tired,” he realized, rubbing his eyes with his paw.

“As you should be,” Spottedleaf mewed, her voice coming from the gloom. “You’ve been through a lot.” She’d returned with several mice in her jaws. Ravenpaw blinked slowly. Had Spottedleaf always been such a good hunter and she’d just never told him? He probably never noticed. Spottedleaf rarely hunted back in camp anyway.

Ravenpaw curled his tail around his paws, fighting sleep.

“Take a nap, Ravenpaw,” Spottedleaf suggested. “You’ll need your strength for the journey home.”

Ravenpaw couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Here,” Barley said, quickly nudging him towards a haystack nearby. “It’s a good sleeping spot. Warm and safe from any drafts.”

“Thank you,” Ravenpaw replied, hearing his own speech slur. He couldn’t gather the strength to think of a longer reply than that. He found his legs crumpling into hay nest, his senses flooded with the comforting, musky scent of dried grass and damp wood. His eyes fluttered close. Darkness enveloped him, and he could barely hang onto the threads of consciousness that were still tying him to reality. He felt a warm body press up against his side. He couldn’t tell who it was. He was already far gone.

“I’ll make sure you’re okay,” was the last thing he heard before he let himself fall into blackness. He didn’t remember much more.

***

It was pitch black when Ravenpaw woke again. He gasped, his heart lurching. He felt his blood race through his veins. Where was he? His claws unsheathed. He scrabbled clumsily until he felt them kicking up hay, and then touch the wooden floor beneath him.

 _Barley’s barn_. That’s where he’d last fallen asleep. Right? Ravenpaw lifted his head, panting. A faint streak of silver moonlight filtered in through the barn window. It was nighttime.

Ravenpaw leaped to his paws. Then promptly crashed back down. A painful light exploded behind his eyes as he felt the worst pain of his life shoot through his skull. He groaned as he pressed his forehead to the ground, gritting his teeth, willing the stabbing sensation to leave him.

“Ravenpaw!” Barley’s voice. He heard the thudding of paws as the loner scrambled to reach him. “Ravenpaw.” Barley’s scent, musky and warm like the hay around him, was sharp with fear. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m... I’m not sure why I wouldn’t be...” Ravenpaw mewed, his breath coming in short, painful gasps. He squeezed his eyes shut as another blinding ray of light burst behind his eyes. What was happening to him?

“Oh, this is bad.” Ravenpaw heard the faintest growl leave Barley’s throat.

“What...”

Ravenpaw curled back up on the hay nest. Warm... soft... safe... He felt his eyes drooping again.

“No, Ravenpaw, please,” Barley mewed hurriedly, nudging his flank with his paw. “You can’t go back to sleep.”

Ravenpaw was certain his stomach was falling out of his body. He felt weak, like pins were prickling along his skin. He flexed his claws, trying to regain control in them. He felt like a newborn kit, helpless and incompetent.

"What’s happening?” he gasped.

“I’ve been trying to wake you,” Barley explained. Ravenpaw could see a flash of panic in his eyes. “I just couldn’t.”

“Oh...” Ravenpaw mewed, squeezing his eyes and willing his pounding headache to go away. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t know what to do,” Barley mewed. “Spottedleaf never came back after she went hunting.”

Ravenpaw stiffened, feeling the blood drain from his head. The pain was momentarily forgotten. “She never came back?!” he almost exclaimed. He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Something must’ve happened to her! ShadowClan!” He bristled.

“I know she said she was going to make dirt outside. I tried to follow her scent trail,” Barley said, “but the rain had completely washed it away.”

“What do we do?” Ravenpaw whimpered.

Barley shook his head. “You tell me,” he replied. “Are you well enough to go looking for her?”

“I...” Ravenpaw began. “I-I don’t know if we...” He gulped. “We, the two of us, should go wandering around Wind—ShadowClan territory...” He scuffled his paws on the ground. “The moors used to be WindClan territory, but then ShadowClan drove them out of their territory and claimed the moors as their own.”

“Ah,” Barley said, somberly. “That’s why the moors have been so silent.” He lashed his tail. “I remember scenting many cats passing through here maybe a moon ago. Their fear scent was strong.”

“That must’ve been WindClan,” Ravenpaw murmured.

Barley’s expression grew distant. Ravenpaw expected him to comment, but he’d changed the subject, “I have to take you back to your Clan.”

Ravenpaw’s eyes widened. “What about Spottedleaf?” he exclaimed, worry prickling his pelt. Had she really not returned to the barn? She must’ve run into trouble. His mind raced with a million different scenarios, each more terrible than the next.

“As you said,” Barley mewed, “the two of us probably wouldn’t stand a chance against a fearsome ShadowClan patrol, would we?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t take any chances. Let’s get you home.”

Ravenpaw started to stutter a protest, but then he realized Barley was right. He could get back and tell Bluestar, Lionheart—even Tigerclaw... He shuddered. Tigerclaw would be livid. Maybe he wouldn’t tell Tigerclaw... directly. He would leave that up to Bluestar, or Lionheart, or any other cat that wasn’t himself.

Ravenpaw took a few wobbly steps out of the barn. He felt like his stomach was full of rocks.

The night was bitterly cold, and the cold, damp ground beneath their paws chilled Ravenpaw to the bone. He longed for his warm nest back in ThunderClan. The wind howled over their heads. Ravenpaw shivered. How did WindClan ever manage out here in the open? He wished there were a few trees to block out the relentless night wind.

“Let’s go another way,” Barley suggested. “We’re susceptible to attack in the open.” Ravenpaw could see his breath misting in the air. He nodded. Barley’s whiskers twitched as he picked up the pace.

“The sooner we get to ThunderClan, the sooner they can send out a patrol to find Spottedleaf,” Ravenpaw muttered, half to himself. His paws were cold with worry.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Barley said reassuringly. Ravenpaw’s ears pricked up in surprise. He hadn’t realized that Barley overheard him. He shrank back a little in embarrassment.

“It’s okay to be worried,” Barley mewed. “This Brokenstar fellow doesn’t sound like good news.”

Ravenpaw stiffened. “I... I don’t know too much about him...”

“He got his Clan to drive out all the cats living on the moors, huh?” Barley asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Ravenpaw mewed. “And he... he’s been saying he’s coming after the other Clans as well.”

Barley lashed his tail slightly. “What does he want? Territory?” He looked around at the dark hills surrounding them. “Hasn’t he gotten enough?”

“I don’t know,” Ravenpaw replied.

Barley shook his head. “He’s cursed,” he said, in a tone that was much harsher than Ravenpaw had ever heard the plump, friendly tom ever use. “Cats like him want power and will make every cat around him miserable until he gets what he wants.” His shoulders sagged. Ravenpaw could feel waves of sadness rolling off of him.

“ThunderClan will be okay,” Ravenpaw mewed, nervously reaching out to lay his tailtip on Barley’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Bluestar is a strong leader and we have so many strong warriors.” He couldn’t imagine Brokenstar wanting to mess the with formidable Lionheart, or even Tigerclaw.

Barley looked up to give Ravenpaw a curious look, but said nothing else. He slowed his pace. Ravenpaw turned, ears flicking questioningly. “What’s wrong, Barley?” he asked, feeling a little prickle of anxiety run through his spine. Had Barley heard something? An approaching ShadowClan patrol? Maybe a hungry owl was nearby? Ravenpaw kneaded the ground, ready to sprint for cover.

Then Ravenpaw heard it. A very faint scrabbling sound. The hairs on his pelt stood up. Then he saw it—a dark mass flowing out from the side of the path.

“Rats!” Barley screeched as Ravenpaw scrambled to find his footing. The two attempted to pelt back towards the moorlands for safety, but it was too late. The squeaking blanket of rodents was upon them, their eyes gleaming viciously in the dark.

Mind whirling, Ravenpaw threw himself into the fray. How many of them were there? Could Barley and him take them on? The rats were crawling on his face and neck, sinking their sharp little teeth into his flesh. Yowling, he rolled onto the ground, crushing a few under his pelt, and throwing a few into a nearby boulder with a swift kick of his hind legs. Still, they kept coming.

Ravenpaw felt Barley back into him as the tide of rats pushed him towards the edge of the path. “Keep fighting!” Barley yowled at him. “We’re going to move towards the river.”

“The river?” Ravenpaw echoed, terrified. Was Barley suggesting they swim? He clawed at a rat that’d landed on his nose. He felt the sting of its bite before he hurled it to the ground.

“The river’s current is too strong for them!” Barley responded, baring his teeth and snapping at a rat that’d leaped at him. The creature squealed as Barley picked it up between his jaws and flung it away. “We can swim across but they’ll be washed away if they try!”

In a furious whirlwind of meticulously-planned battle moves, Barley managed to clear a small path through the sea of rats that poured out of their lair. Ravenpaw tried to follow suit, but he was out of practice. He felt clumsy and heavy, weak and slow. The rats were overwhelming him. He couldn’t lose focus. _Come on_ , he told himself through gritted teeth. It took all his strength to keep up with Barley. He swiped at the rats that were leaping at him, sometimes connecting his blows, sometimes having to shake them off his pelt when he missed. But slowly, somehow, they started to descend down the slope that lead to the river by RiverClan’s border.

“Jump!” Barley caterwauled. He shoved Ravenpaw, hard. Ravenpaw found himself tumbling down the hill, paws scrambling helplessly to regain balance as the rats that were still clinging to his pelt flew off.

He plunged into the icy river with a loud splash.

He resurfaced, gasping for air. The water was so cold he could barely feel his limbs. The current rushed at him, threatening to pull him under.

“Swim!” Barley ordered. He was suddenly beside Ravenpaw, his furry face drenched, making his blue eyes look huge. “Don’t stop moving or the current will get you! Follow me!”

Struggling for breath, Ravenpaw forced his paws to move. Any remaining rats that’d fallen into the river were swept away almost immediately. Their furious screeches were drowned out by the rush of water as they disappeared downstream.

He obviously wasn’t made for swimming. The water had soaked to the bone, making him feel like a cat made out of stone. He was so cold. At least the water had numbed any sensation of pain he might’ve had from the rat bites. He paddled after Barley, hoping he wouldn’t be swept away before they reached land.

The river wasn’t very wide. After splashing for a few heartbeats, Ravenpaw felt his paws touch something rocky. Land. He saw a familiar shape in the distance. Sunningrocks. They were in ThunderClan territory.

Hauling himself out the river was the most difficult part. He was heavy with water, and exhausted from the rat fight. Ravenpaw collapsed on the sandy riverbank, chest heaving. He closed his eyes.

“No, you have to lick yourself to stay warm,” Barley mewed urgently, smacking him on the top of his head. “You’ll die from the cold if you don’t. Come on. Lick, lick, lick...” Barley sat next to him and started grooming his chest.

Ravenpaw groaned and forced himself to lick his fur. He ached. He could feel his wounds again, and they stung like angry nettles. “Ah...” he gasped, but he could already feeling the cold settling in. Barley was right. Spottedleaf often told him of how quickly cats died after falling in the river if they didn’t warm them up fast enough. “Are you okay? How badly are you hurt?” Ravenpaw managed to croak. Barley must’ve taken a bad blow from the fight. After all, he wasn’t trained to fight... or was he?

He felt Barley’s rough tongue on his neck. It was warm and comforting. “Don’t worry about me, Ravenpaw,” he mewed into his fur. “I’ll be just fine.”

“Thanks,” Ravenpaw murmured as the black-and-white tom began to help him dry the rest of his pelt. He felt like a little kit again as Barley groomed him.

The two of them stood on the riverbank, meticulously combing through the rest of their wet fur until not a single drop of water was left.

The moon was dropping from the sky. It was almost dawn. They’d almost gone through an entire night. Ravenpaw’s chest tightened. Was Spottedleaf still okay?

“Barley,” Ravenpaw rasped. “Where did you learn to fight like that?” He didn’t know if his question was too intrusive or direct, but he was too tired to care. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Barley managed to bowl his way through the rats like that. Barley was a big tom, but his movements were so skilled and practiced. He had to have learned them from somewhere.

He found Barley looking at him, his eyes shifting back and forth, as if he was contemplating something deeply.

“I have a secret,” Barley began slowly.

“So do I,” Ravenpaw blurted out.

The two toms eyed each other, the tips of their tails twitching in apprehension. The long marsh grasses brushed Ravenpaw’s belly.

Barley’s blue eyes crinkled as he let out a soft purr. “You don’t look like the kind of cat who has secrets, Ravenpaw,” he commented.

“I didn’t think you would either...” Ravenpaw responded cautiously.

“Oh,” Barley mewed, amused, “we all have our secrets.” He sighed, his gaze leaving Ravenpaw and settling into the distance. He grew misty-eyed. “All this talk of Brokenstar has me worried.” _Is he avoiding the question?_

“You?” Ravenpaw asked, tilting his head. “You’re not a Clan cat...”

Barley looked at him again. _Barley knows a lot more than I might suspect_ , Ravenpaw realized, feeling an uncomfortable tingle in the back of his neck.

“I didn’t always use to be a loner,” Barley said finally.

Ravenpaw stared at him. What did Barley mean by that?

Barley’s shoulders drooped again. “A cat very much like Brokenstar changed everything I used to know.”

“Oh,” Ravenpaw breathed. He was still curious, but he knew better than to pry. Barley seemed uncomfortable. “I’m... I’m sorry.” When Barley didn’t respond, he piped up, “I know how that feels. I didn’t always use to be a medicine cat,” he confessed.

Barley regarded him warmly. He didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t have to.

Suddenly, Ravenpaw froze. As another gust of wind passed over them, he felt his heart drop. The wind carried the scent, faintly, of ThunderClan—the familiar scent of dens and cats—but something else as well.

Blood.

“Oh StarClan,” Ravenpaw breathed, feeling sick and cold. “Oh please no.”

Ravenpaw’s heart rate spiked, as he lurched forward into a shaky sprint. He couldn’t even feel the rat bites on his body as he tore into the forest undergrowth.

“Ravenpaw!” Barley called out after him, his voice sharp with worry. He chased after him, clearly struggling to keep up. But Ravenpaw could not slow down for the loner. He pelted through the forest, expertly dodging fallen logs, his paws squelching in the muddy terrain from the rainstorm before. He heard Barley’s pawsteps recede as he easily outran him. He hurled himself down the familiar path towards camp, feeling like his heart would spill out of his throat.

The scent of blood and fear grew and grew as he neared the clearing that he called his home. He skidded to a stop as he almost broke through the bramble barrier surrounding the camp. Even in the dark, he could see that the usually-sturdy barrier had been trampled through.

“Is anyone here?!” Ravenpaw called out, breathless, hearing his voice turn into a terrified squeak.

He felt something heavy bowl into him.


End file.
